


The Law of Unintended Consequences

by ItsaVikingThing



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Angst, Chloe has powers, Does it make a sound?, F/F, Fantasy AU, Hello if you are though, Hurt/Comfort, I like your shirt, I said angst twice because there's a lot of angst, If a tag falls in a forest where there's no one to read it, Like a bear scratching sonnets into tree bark, Marvels, No one reads these anymore anyway, Only fics last forever, Or a writer writing words onto electronic paper, Pretty significant canon divergence, Tags are fleeting, There is also some romance, These tags are frankly a disgrace, We're out of hibernation, but it's super slow burn, thrills, turns, twists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2018-09-17 22:38:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 108,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9349370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsaVikingThing/pseuds/ItsaVikingThing
Summary: Fantasy AU.After the Gods of Elysium fell silent most people thought that the Age of Miracles is long over. But in the city of Arcadia, one person knows differently.Chloe Price has been Chosen by the Gods, the first person to receive their blessing in generations. The only problem is, she has no idea why and all she really wants is to get out of Arcadia for good.Kate Marsh wants nothing more than a quiet life spent offering spiritual guidance. Instead, she's been entrusted with a mission that could save her country from civil war.Okay, look: there's good stuff I don't want to spoil in the tags or summary. If you'd consider giving this a shot, I'd appreciate it!





	1. The Storm and the Sea Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a warning going in, this chapter takes place in the immediate aftermath of a lethal storm. There's nothing graphic here, but it is not going to be the cheeriest of things you could read.

There are a lot of masts on the water today. Not enough of them are upright.

David Madsen picks his way through the rubble-strewn streets of Arcadia, trying to avoid the milling citizens as much as the debris underfoot. He makes his way towards the beach, glaring at anyone who jostles him. But that's just reflex, not anger. Most of the people on the streets are too dazed to even notice him at all.

Yesterday, a storm swept across the seas like some demon from the Void and howled through Arcadia for most of the afternoon. The city was hit badly enough, but it was the poor fuckers shipboard that had the worst of it. Several vessels lost, all lives with them, as far as anyone can tell. A lot of Arcadians have lost family, friends, homes, jobs in the span of a few hours. Rumour is that even Duke Prescott had a narrow escape, might have died at the docks if his carriage hadn't been delayed.

A bad enough day for Arcadia, for Elysium too, if that was all. But Duke Prescott was going to the docks because yesterday was the day of the royal visit. King Gregory's ship is thought to have gone down just a few leagues short of the safety of Arcadia' s harbour. And if the young King's dead, without an heir to inherit his divine essence, then a miracle is the only thing that'll keep the Dukes of Elysium from tearing the country apart in pursuit of the crown.

Pity the Age of Miracles ended almost a hundred years ago. The Gods have been silent since.

David makes his way onto the beach. He was a soldier once, fought against the Northern clans, helped fight them to a standstill. He's no stranger to serving his country. But now he's a citizen and today he's got other duties. David is on the hunt. Marcus Fletcher: another lowlife gambler whose marker Magistrate Wells has called due.

It's not a job David has much taste for, but on a day like this, it's nice to have something simple to focus on. Wells might have had wine on his breath this morning, but he still made a point of telling David and his men that business would continue as normal. Even if it is tracking down a loser with gambling debts. It's reassuring to know that just because the world's suddenly skewed on its axis, there's still order being maintained. Duke Prescott's guard are busy setting things to right in the city. There's as many sailors as are able setting canvas to rigging, searching for survivors. In his official capacity, Magistrate Wells is seeing to the legal needs of the city. And in his unofficial role, he has David making sure the shady side of the street's in order.

David almost smiles, now, remembering Wells saying "Yesterday was bad, and tomorrow might be worse. So now's the time for some normalcy. For routine. We get to decide _right now_ what sort of future we want to be living. Let's make it the right one."

Say what you will about Wells, it's an inspiring thought. Even if maintaining order means some people have no future at all.

Finding Marcus is easy enough, once David gets away from the docks. Marcus was a sailor, he knows the currents here and, being an opportunistic little weasel, he's no doubt been amongst the first looking for salvage. It's not long before David spots the ragged figure picking at the wreckage on the shoreline, tossing items either onto a blanket or back into the sea.

David smiles grimly. He slips out his knife, keeps it down by his thigh as he picks his way through the sand and seaweed. Through the cords and spars and scraps of sailcloth.

Through the bodies.

David's faith is still there, shabby with neglect, but seeing all this? He wonders if the Gods are not just silent, but altogether absent, now.

He tries just to focus on his target.

"Any luck?"

Marcus whirls round, almost pitches over. "What? Who..." He pales at the sight of David. He hasn't even spotted the knife yet.

So David shows it to him, and chuckles. "From where I'm standing, it looks like you're not having any luck at all."

Marcus starts backing up, though there's only salt water behind him. "Madsen! I...I'll have the money, soon." He gestures wildly, "I'm putting it together. I just need a little time!"

"So I should just take a walk? Leave you to your pickings, crow?" It's not the anger that surprises David, just how good it feels to let some of it out. It's even better when Marcus squawks and trips on something on the shore, landing in a heap of twisted limbs.

David closes the gap between them, choosing his steps with care. "Let you pick the dead clean so you can live to drink and gamble another day?" He frowns down at the man floundering in the shallow water.

Marcus has tripped over the body of a girl.

As Marcus thrashes around, finally coming to his hands and knees in the surf, David looms over him. But he's looking at the girl, shaking his head. She's young, can't be more than 13 or 14. She's wrapped in a naval greatcoat, much too large for her. It's a wonder she made it to the beach at all. There's seaweed in her hair, and...no, that _is_ her hair, blue and green and purple like the ocean. David stops, startled. "Can't be...".

Both men jump when the girl stirs, coughs weakly. Opens pale blue eyes and whispers, "Dad?" She slumps, exhausted.

Marcus is trembling, looks like he'd be sinking down to his knees, if he wasn't already on them. "She's alive. She's been blessed by the Gods! They've marked her..." He reaches towards the girl's hair.

David's lips thin. He plants his foot on Marcus's chest, shoves him onto his back.

"Don't touch her." He sheathes his knife, glad Marcus can't see his hands shake. Manages a growl. "Fetch that blanket."

As Marcus hurries to obey, David kneels down. The girl's passed out again, but she's still breathing steadily enough. David scoops her carefully out of the sand, carries her to where Marcus hovers, blanket in hand. David grabs it, clumsily wraps the girl up, making sure to cover her hair.

He fixes Marcus with his best glare. "Guess this is your lucky day, after all. Your debts are clear. But you don't breathe a word of this to anyone, you hear? Don't make me come find you again."

Then he's off, back up the beach and to Arcadia. Ignoring Marcus' babbled assurances, he concentrates on the warm breath of the child in his arms. Marked by the Gods. The first in generations.

David sticks to the back alleys, to the quiet lanes of Arcadia. There are plenty of people about on even these streets, but he doesn't draw much attention.

He's not the only one carrying a body, after all.

As he trudges back through the streets, rumour from the docks overtakes him. The King's ship has been found, ravaged by the storm. All hands lost.

The King is dead.

David's never been much for questioning faith. There's no disputing that the Gods were real, no arguing with the blessings they bestowed on the favoured bloodlines of Elyisum. Being born into the Age of Silence, he's accepted that the Gods no longer choose to intervene in mortal matters. But if the Gods were silent, there were still the priests and the blessed bloodlines, bearers of divine essence. Living proof of the will and works of the Gods. There was still an _order_ to things.

When he was young, he felt cheated to have been born after the Age of Miracles. To have missed his chance to witness the Gods in action. Now, he's beginning to think that might have been its own sort of blessing.

He hesitates at the turning. One way to the High Temple. Another to Blackwell Scriptorium and the Magistrate.

David has little enough faith in Wells. He's a drunk, a crook and Duke Prescott's creature. He's also David's boss, and he _does_ understand the needs of the city better than most. This is something he should know about.

On the other hand, if this really is a miracle, then surely he should take her to the priests. If the Gods' own servants don't know what to make of the girl, no one will. Then again, the priesthood isn't what it once was. The Age of Silence has lasted long enough that no one really remembers what it was like to live with the direct guidance of the Gods. The priests cling to the memory of their power and relevance, even as their congregation dwindles year on year.

What would they do to get their hands on the girl? What wouldn't they do, once they did?

It hits him. The child in his arms might have been marked by the Gods, but it's David who has to decide, _right now_ , what kind of future she'll be living.

He grits his teeth, shifts her in his arms.

He starts walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much for reading!
> 
> If you have any thoughts, criticisms or puns you'd like to share, please do leave a comment. 
> 
> I'm currently aiming to update weekly, time and circumstances permitting.
> 
> Cheers!


	2. Five Years Gone

She's still Chloe Price in her heart, in her head. Even if she's gone by Chloe Madsen these last five years.

She's only had a few hours sleep. She snuck in late again last night, scaled the wall and slipped through the window like a velvet-slippered mouse. Mostly out of habit, though. By the small hours, David's either out being the Magistrate's left hand or he's passed out drunk. It's not yet dawn, but there's no way back into dreams and getting up now means facing David. So she lies quiet and remembers.

She remembers waking on a couch in this strange house five years ago, scared and confused. She remembers David scowling down at her.

"You're awake. Good. What's your name?"

"Wh...Chloe. I'm Chloe Price. Where's-"

"You need to listen to me. You survived the storm, but no one else did. And no one can know what's happened. Do you understand?"

"N-no. You're scaring me! Where-"

"Do you have any other friends or relatives in Arcadia?"

"What? I...no." Not since the fever took her mother. Not since the Caulfields left. "Please. Where's my dad?"

"Anyone who was on that ship with you is gone. Listen to me, this is important...cry later! _Listen_ to me, now. You're Chloe Madsen. You're my niece, from Skald. I'm going to take care of you. I'll get you some dry clothes as soon as I can, but first we have to deal with _that_."

 _That_ was her hair. Last she remembered she'd had long, strawberry blonde locks. Now her hair was blue, green and purple like the sea. She wasn't given much time to adjust to that discovery before David grabbed a length of hair and went to work with a knife.

She really did cry, as he hacked and sawed at her hair and threw handfuls of it into the fire.

She hasn't cried in front of him since.

Not even when he told her about the storm, about the Gods marking her. Not even when he brought her the documents that made her, in the eyes of the law, Chloe Madsen, niece and ward of David Madsen.

Not even when he tried to burn her coat, though that time rage had made it easy to keep the tears at bay. She'd fought back and though he came close to hitting her, in the end he let her have her way.

They've fought often enough over the years, and that still counts as one of her few victories.

She lies awake with her eyes closed, waiting. When she hears his boots climbing the stairs she deepens her breathing, lets all thoughts slip away. She pretends to sleep through his quiet knock, the scrape of her door and his tired sigh.

She waits until she's sure he's gone for the day before she opens her eyes.

* * *

Chloe peers through the shutters and scowls. It’s a bleary, drizzly sort of day in Arcadia.

She hates the rain.

"Five days. Just need to keep it together for five more days." She snorts, turns away from the window. "So maybe stop talking to yourself, Chloe. And get moving."

She starts getting dressed, pulling clothes over her long, lean frame. Linen trousers, dark, comfortable, loose.

Sleeveless leather jerkin next. Thin and flexible. Practically a second skin.

The boots are a year old and easily the nicest things she owns. A birthday gift from Magistrate Wells, delivered by David. Most of the other things he’s given her over the years she’s sold or thrown away. The boots are comfortable, sturdy, not too heavy. Perfect, really.

She hates Wells.

Broad belt, sabre in its sheath on her left hip. She’s worked on it quite a bit, shaved off a little weight, adjusted the hilt and grip. It suits her about as well as any sword could. Not that she intends to do any sword work today, but with tensions in Arcadia getting worse all the time, it pays to show a little steel when you're on the streets.

She tucks her knife into a sheath at the small of her back. It pays to keep some steel hidden, too.

She puts on her green naval greatcoat. It’s old, colour-faded and crudely mended, but it’s not something she could ever bear to part with. It's not something she can bear anyone else touching, come to that. She doesn't remember much about the day of the storm, but she remembers her father wrapping this coat around her when the rain and the temperature started to fall on deck.

William Price.

She hugs herself for a moment. She likes to imagine she can still find some trace of his scent, his warmth.

She sighs, and goes back to her preparations. She tucks her sap into the outer right pocket, makes sure the picks and blades and other little tools are all where they should be.

Last is the bandanna. She tried shaving her head altogether, but enjoyed neither the look nor David's approval. So now she keeps it short and covered when she's going out. She doesn't agree with David on much, but she doesn't argue anymore when he tells her to avoid drawing attention to herself. She's got more reasons than David knows to want be a shadow these days.

Chloe hits the streets. Ah, the glory of the docks in the morning. It’s hard work finding a part of the city that doesn’t stink. At least the docks come by it honestly.

Chloe exchanges a few nods as she walks, absentmindedly scanning for threats. Not that there’s many people likely to bother her in this part of town, what with her being a Madsen and all. Still, desperate times make for desperate people. Just the other day two starving clansmen had tried to mug her.

She gave them a few silvers after and let them limp away, pride hurt worse than anything else.

Time was Chloe wouldn't be allowed out of the house without an escort. Usually David, occasionally one of his band of thugs. To guard her, David would say. She may have been young and addled with grief and anger, but she could still tell the difference between a bodyguard and a jailer.

She's got a lot more freedom these days, partly because she's too good at giving her watchers the slip. Mostly, though, it's that there's no way out of Arcadia. Not for her. Since the death of King Gregory, Elysium hasn't quite spiralled into civil war. But there's mistrust between the Dukes, unrest amongst the northern clans. Travel into and out of the cities is carefully monitored. Even the meanest farmer needs a yard of paperwork to go from stead to market. Getting legal travel papers is hard, time consuming and expensive.

And in Arcadia, you have to go through Magistrate Wells to get legal papers. That isn't possible for Chloe. And, as she's discovered over nearly a year's worth of bribes and careful inquiries, David's the one helping Wells control most of the document forgers in the city, too. David's relaxed his vigilance on Chloe because even if she could sneak out of Arcadia, without legal papers she'd never get far.

And getting caught with forgeries merits a death sentence.

So David's less cautious and Chloe's used the degree of freedom she's won to her advantage. David's banned her from entering most legitimate trades. He claims he fears the consequences in the event of her public exposure as the first Chosen of the divine in a century. She's pretty sure that's a load. He probably just doesn't want her able to fend for herself.

But that's exactly what she's been doing. Unable to get a job openly, she's become familiar with Arcadia's underworld, instead. She's learned how to pick a pocket or a lock, wield a weapon or con a mark. David knows she's been a petty criminal for years, but hasn't chosen to do much about it. Except to growl at her and demand she show him respect and stay out of trouble. He has no idea quite how proficient a burglar she's become, nor how many friends she's made amongst the crooks who operate outside David and Wells' influence.

And he really has no idea how much money she's managed to put away, or how diligently she's been planning.

In just five more days, she's finally leaving Arcadia.

It's all arranged. She's bought a berth on the trading ship _Prosper_ , stashed a pack with travelling clothes and gear and arranged for provisions. All without tipping her hand to David or tugging too hard on any strand of Magistrate Wells' web.

The last thing, the most important thing, is her travel papers. It took a lot of doing, but she found someone willing to act as go-between and now Chloe's got a meeting at the _Two Whales_ tavern. She's picking up her forged documents today.

She hesitates for a moment. Gives in to impulse and turns toward the beach. It's not a habit she's indulged in months, but...it can't hurt, right?

In a few minutes she's striding over the sand and kneeling at the shore. She dips two fingers into the brine, rubs salt water across her lips and whispers a prayer to Hella, Goddess of the sea.

She waits until her knees protest, snorts, stands and makes her way back to the waking streets of Arcadia.

Chloe has visited shrines and temples. She's prayed at the shore and cursed the night. She still hasn't heard so much as a whisper in response. The Gods may have marked her, but they remain silent as to why. Why she was spared when so many others died: her father, her mother, Ryan and...no. No time for that sorry shit right now. She unclenches her fists, swipes her eyes, breathes.

* * *

Chloe's wearing a smirk when she finally strides into the _Two Whales_.

Connor nods to her, shifts his bulk around enough to fill her a mug of ale, then slumps down on the bar again.

She takes a gulp and lets out a content sigh. "Anything fit to call breakfast around here?"

Connor grunts and jabs a thumb in the direction of the back room.

"Pleasure talking to you, Con. Later."

Chloe heads to the door with an 'X' carved into the surface and knocks. A few moments later there's the sound of a scraping bolt and the door opens. Chloe's greeted by the sight of Juliet Watson and the smell of bacon. She's not sure which one makes her happier, but there's nothing forced about the smile on Chloe's face now.

Juliet's around Chloe's age, an attractive lesser scion of minor nobility. She's got a fiery temper, an insatiable appetite for gossip and is a little bit gullible. Chloe dislikes gossip and has her own anger issues, so in the year she's known Juliet there's been a few...incidents. But Juliet's basically good-hearted and she's the one who's risking herself to get Chloe her documents.

That makes her a friend.

"Hey, Jules. How's business?"

"Not the best, I'm afraid. And best discussed in private."

Before Chloe can ask what that means, Rachel's voice reaches her.

"Morning, Chloe. You'd better come right in. I remember what happened to the last person who tried to stand between you and food."

Chloe steps into the room. The _Two Whales_ has a long history and its back room is part of the legend. This room has seen high stakes gaming, smugglers and pirates carousing, blood spilled, secrets sold and more deals decided than the entire Prescott ducal line can claim. That is, until King Gregory died and Sean Prescott decided to "clamp down on the wild and lawless elements of Arcadia". Which more or less meant put them in his employ or in shackles. The _Two Whales_ is a perfectly respectable establishment these days, the back room hired out only to perfectly respectable people.

Well. Respectable _looking_ people.

Elysium might have lost a king, but Arcadia's underworld has found a queen in the golden-haired Rachel Amber. Even in the dingy room eating bacon and eggs with a tin fork, she's beautiful and elegant. She's also as honest and charming a swindler as has ever preyed upon the nobles of Arcadia.

Chloe's maybe a little smitten.

But she trusts Rachel, like no one else in this place. Rachel has saved Chloe, more than once and in more ways than one. Juliet's been the face of this latest deal, but it's Rachel who put it all together. It's Rachel who has acted as fence and fixer for Chloe in the two years they've known each other. It's Rachel who's made it possible for Chloe to carve her own little niche in the underworld and ultimately to put her whole escape plan together. It's Rachel she's really going to miss when she leaves Arcadia.

Not that she's ever uttered a word of that aloud.

"Ah, breakfast!" She plonks herself down at the table and helps herself to a plate of food. She nods to the other woman at the table, "Hey, Rach."

Rachel's smile is warmer than the fire and preferable even to bacon. It's brief today, though, a little pained.

Juliet bolts the door and joins them, looking a little tense herself.

Chloe shovels some bacon into her mouth. "I'm guessing you're not about to make me happy."

Juliet fiddles with a cup of water. Rachel sighs, pushes her plate away. "Chloe, there's no easy way to say this. We don't have your papers."

"What? Shit. I _need_ those papers." She turns on Juliet. "You said there wouldn't be a problem. You said your contact was solid!"

Juliet's shaking her head. "Chloe, he is! I mean, he was! But..."

Rachel cuts in. "Daniel's been arrested, Chloe. The ducal guard picked him up last night, along with all the documents he was working on."

Chloe groans, pushes away from the table. She starts pacing. "There's got to be some other way. Didn't you say there was a new player in town?"

Juliet glances anxiously at Rachel, who offers up a little hope. "That's true. I still don't know who they are, exactly, but I've found out how to make contact. And I've seen some of their work. It's perfect. Blackwell quality. But it'll be expensive. 500 marks."

"Hella! That's almost double the fee!" Chloe frowns, thinks about how quickly she can put together enough coin to make up the difference. "Well, it'll be tight. But with what I've already given you, I can probably put the rest together in five days. Can you arrange it, Rach?"

She stops, sees the other two staring down at the table. "What?"

Rachel glances at Juliet, shrugs. "I can arrange anything, you know that. But it's not going to be that easy."

Juliet bites her lip. "I had to pay Daniel in advance, Chloe. To cover the costs of materials. Your silver's gone, too."

Chloe takes a few quick steps away from the table and punches the wall hard enough to crack the timber. "This is bullshit! Fucking Wells. Fucking _Prescotts_." Chloe's head is throbbing and she feels suddenly too enclosed in this little room. She feels too enclosed in this city.

Then Rachel's by her side. She doesn't say anything, just takes Chloe's uninjured hand in hers and leads her back to the table. Chloe feels the anger recede, some of the tension leave her. Feels a little pang, too, when Rachel's soft hand leaves hers. Rachel sits back down, calmly sips from her cup. Juliet's not so unruffled.

"Void spare us, your hand! A-are you okay, Chloe?"

Chloe glances down. Her knuckles are a little tender, but there's not much pain and she knows they'll be healed before the morning's through.

"I'll be fine. Sorry I lost it there. I know it's not your fault, Jules. And I appreciate the risks you've taken for me. Both of you. It's just...to get so _close_..."

Before she can say anything else, Rachel cuts in again. "Don't give up just yet, Chlo. There's an...opportunity that's come up that could give you a chance to raise the money you need. Today."

Juliet looks startled. "What? The amphitheatre? Rachel, that's not a goo-"

Rachel raises her hand and Juliet subsides. "You may not like it, Chloe. But it's the only way I see that you can raise the money you need."

"Talk to me. If there's any chance I can still make it out on the _Prosper_ this week, I'll take it.

So Rachel tells her.

Chloe hates it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I hope to see you next week, when: Stuff actually happens! Woo!


	3. Blessings in Disguise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This briefly takes a dark turn when an unpleasant creep gets abusive with our protagonist, Kate Marsh.

Kate Marsh's first glimpse of Arcadia's amphitheatre was from the docks yesterday. It's a huge and imposing building standing on a shoulder of land overlooking the bay

She thought it was the Grand Temple.

Today, as she stares out around her and feels the anticipation thrumming through the gathering crowds, she thinks maybe her first guess wasn't so mistaken.

There's little room for the Gods here, though. The swelling tide of anticipation focused on the sand of the arena floor has nothing to do with the divine.

There's going to be blood spilled there soon. That's what the crowds are here to worship.

Yesterday, Kate was too tired from her journey and too caught up in setting up the suite in the Ducal Palace to give much thought to today's entertainment. But now the reality of Duke Prescott's Grand Proving is sinking in.

Thousands of Arcadians, Northern clanspeople and even a few Mermedonians are here in honour of the Duke's guests from Skald. In her role as personal attendant to Lady Victoria Chase, Kate has to endure the entire spectacle by her mistress' side. And given that Lady Victoria Chase is daughter of the Duchess of Skald and betrothed to Duke Prescott's heir, Nathan, that means that Kate has a prime viewing spot in the Prescotts' box.

She feels nauseous.

Victoria appears unperturbed. She's beautiful, slim and graceful. She's able to sport her blonde hair short, in a warrior's style that she carries off effortlessly. She wears stylish silks today, along with her habitual scowl.

Strands of Kate's much longer, slightly darker hair are slowly escaping the bun on top of her head. She's fidgeting and trying to find a way to wipe the sweat off her palms without staining her dress. She may only be pretending to be a servant, but she's pretending to be a _Chase _' _s_ servant and that means what she's wearing is more expensive than anything she's ever owned.__

Kate shifts awkwardly in her seat, wishing she could be a little more like Victoria. She's as comfortable in armour and wielding a straight sword as she is trading barbs in fashionable attire. Not that Victoria's likely to get much opportunity to practice her sword drill in the coming weeks. Just as Kate is playing a maid, Victoria is playing the role of spoiled heiress. With a little more conviction than Kate's comfortable with, in truth.

Victoria suddenly snaps her fingers in Kate's face. "Wake up, girl!"

Kate _is_ only eighteen, but she's nearly two months older than Victoria.

"Yes, my lady?"

Victoria leans in close to Kate, and not-so-coincidently away from Magistrate Wells' breath, and lowers her voice to a whisper.

"Could you try not to shake so much? I can see your knee bouncing!"

"I'm sorry. I don't like violence. And all these people..."

The only reason Kate's here is because of her gift. Oh, she's not like a member of the nobility, carrying echoes of the divine essence bestowed on their heroic ancestors by the Gods. She's certainly nothing like Victoria, whose ducal lineage means her blood swells with the essence of Aram the Just, Queen of the Gods. Kate's blessing is humbler, but to her, no less enriching. She has a sensitivity to the echoes that the Gods have left behind. She's attuned, unconsciously drawn, to their Works and essence; able to perceive, however dimly, the weave of Their labour in this world.

She's profoundly grateful for her talent, but it's also left her sensitive to extremes of emotion. Which is why she's sweating and squirming in her seat. Being amongst so many people in the grip of building bloodlust is deeply uncomfortable for her.

While Provings are in theory exercises designed to test the prowess of warriors in a friendly display of skill, in reality, they're frequently vicious affairs. Pride and the lure of prizes, from coin to a place in a noble's retinue, drive the fighters to inflict mortal injuries.

Kate's only ever been to one Proving, back home in Skald. It was a much smaller amphitheatre, a much smaller event. But even with her father, a bastion of calm and kindness by her side, the excitement of the crowd and the blood of the combatants had overwhelmed her.

Kate shudders, tries in vain to close it all out. "I need to get away from here for a while. Maybe if I go for a walk, try to calm myself..."

Victoria eyes narrow. "There's no fucking way you're leaving me alone with these people!"

Kate peers round the box. Duchess Prescott, after standing on Kate's foot and calling Victoria's dress 'delightfully provincial' upon arriving, has since been content to sniff disapprovingly at every remark addressed to her.

Magistrate Wells, who had alcohol on his breath when he escorted them here this morning, is trying to stealthily top up his wine with spirits from a silver flask. The Duke and his heir have yet to make an appearance, but the box nonetheless feels crowded with servants and guards. None of them seem friendly.

Victoria's been Kate's companion for only a week. It's felt far longer. But while she's...difficult, she and Kate are bonded in their service to the Gods and to the people of Elysium. Besides, underneath her haughty mask, she's almost as nervous as Kate.

But there's no calm presence here to stabilise Kate and Victoria's own fraying nerves are only making things worse. Kate knows she _has_ to get away from this box, even if it's for just a few minutes.

So Kate tries to smile reassuringly at Victoria, even as she stands up. "I'll be back before the Proving starts, I promise."

Victoria's glare intensifies for a moment, then she abruptly faces forward and raises her voice. "Kate. I saw merchants' stalls near the entry. Go and fetch me something to drink." She shoots a sideways glance at the Magistrate. "Something other than wine. Hot tea, perhaps. With honey."

The Duchess sniffs, and shakes her head. Wells hides his embarrassment behind a sip from his goblet.

Victoria reaches into the pouch on her belt, produces several silver marks. As she passes them to Kate, she hisses fiercely. "Seriously, be quick!"

"Of course, my lady." Kate almost bolts for the stairs, barely remembers to stop and curtsy first.

Kate gratefully escapes the Duchess' glower and the sonorous rumble of Wells' sycophancy, losing herself in the flow of people moving through the amphitheatre's walkways.

* * *

Kate feels adrift.

She's far from comfortable in this blue silk dress, pretending to be a servant. She understands the necessity of the deception, but remains troubled by the lie. She's troubled by many of the things she'll likely be party to in the days to come.

She's spent most of her life in the duchy of Skald, and it's been a quiet sort of life at that. She was confirmed into the priesthood less than a month ago, desiring nothing more than to serve the spiritual needs of her people. But instead she's been selected to embark on a mission whose outcome will determine the future of the entire country.

She's always been clumsy and awkward. She's always tried to be honest and diligent. Yet somehow she's supposed to help Victoria uncover the truth behind King Gregory's death, recover the divine essence of Kronus that once flowed in his veins, crown a new monarch and avert a civil war.

It's so much responsibility, more than she ever dreamed she'd be given. And she'll shoulder it as best she can, she will, but...it's all so very _daunting_.

She's so distracted that she takes a wrong turn and finds she's gotten herself lost. When she turns around to try and retrace her steps, she walks into someone. A tall, sneering, heavily-armed warrior who rounds on her so savagely that the apology she tries to utter trips on her tongue and escapes her lips as little more than a squeak.

The towering warrior turns away from the knot of fighters he was talking to and faces Kate full on. His angry expression fades as he looks her up and down. The smile that grows in its place is much less reassuring.

"Did I scare you? Sorry, but a little serving-girl like you should be more careful. You could've run into a real nasty type in a place like this."

She needs to get out of here without causing a scene. So she casts her eyes down, for once grateful at the ease with which she blushes. "Please forgive my clumsiness. E-excuse me, my lord."

He steps in front of her when she tries to move away, though. Hooks a thumb into his belt near the hilt of his sword. "Hey, there's no need to run off. My name's Logan. Let me escort you. You really shouldn't be alone in a rough place like this. "

"Oh, I'm not alone! I'm with my mistress. I need to get back to her in the Prescott box, in fact. So, please let me-."

He laughs. "What do you know? It so happens Nathan Prescott is a good friend of mine. I'll walk you over there. He won't mind if we take our time, either."

"That's...kind, but no thank you."

He's frowning a little now. "What do you mean? Come on. It'll be nice!"

Kate nervously reaches for the gold tree symbol she normally wears around her neck. In deference to secrecy, though, it's sitting in a drawer in her room at the temple in Skald. She feels very small in that moment, struggling to remember that the Gods are always with her.

Her eyes dart around the curving corridor. Logan's companions are mostly paying them no mind. One has drifted a little closer to Logan though, grinning. There are other people in the corridor, some idly chatting, some making their way to the stands. None of them paying much attention to what's happening here.

Kate raises her chin and her voice.

"Well, I think it would be _nice_ if you got out of my way. I have duties to attend to and I really don't want to talk to you anymore." She manages two steps before he moves.

He grabs her shoulder, turns her to face him again. His face is red and his lips twitch down and out in an ugly little pout. "You can't talk to me like that, serving-girl! Don't you know who I-"

"Hey, cousin, there you are! You shouldn't run off like that!"

Logan releases her and turns to face the newcomer. Kate blinks, and looks round to see a tall young woman swaggering towards her, hand raised in greeting and gleaming white teeth on display.

She looks precisely like a pirate.

She's wearing a tattered green coat, a blue bandana and a sword at her hip. She's around Kate's age, but there's little else they have in common. She's at least a head taller than Kate, lean, fit and fierce. There's an indolent grace to her movements, but Kate can see tension in her jaw and shoulders. Her eyes are arctic blue, but there's fire in them and Kate shivers as their gazes meet.

She's not sure she's ever seen anyone so angry before. She's certainly never seen anyone so _alive_.

The woman closes the distance between them in a few quick strides, watching Logan out of the corner of her eye, even as she seems to ignore him. She gets between Logan and Kate, chattering amiable nonsense while deftly manoeuvring Kate out of Logan's reach.

"You didn't forget you were meeting cousin Chloe by the traders' stalls, did you?"

Chloe winks at Kate. She turns to face Logan and the men gathering at his back.

"Thanks for looking out for her. I've got it from here." She drapes an arm over Kate's shoulders. "C'mon, coz."

This close to her, Kate feels Chloe's anger as an almost tangible force. Though she appears at ease, her muscles are tense and ready. But for all that, Kate doesn't feel threatened. In fact, she's surprised by how reassuring Chloe's presence is. It's strange, almost as if...

She's so distracted she almost forgets Logan. He steps in close, right hand gripping the hilt of his sword. "You're cousins? I don't see the resemblance."

"Ooh, that's a long word. You shouldn't overexert yourself like that!" Logan growls, and Chloe lets go of Kate and holds up her right hand placatingly. "Sorry, sorry. No need to get all riled up." She nudges Kate. "Can you believe he doesn't see the resemblance? Maybe you need a closer look. You'll see what I'm talking about."

She steps quickly into Logan's space, not giving him any time to react. He's several inches taller than her, and considerably heavier, but he just gasps and pales when she gets close, his sullen anger washed away in an instant.

It takes Kate a moment to understand why, but she sees a glint of metal and realises that Chloe has a small knife pressed against Logan's...what he would never want something sharp pressed against. The way Chloe's standing, it's only the three of them that know about it, too.

Chloe's smiling sunnily. "You see my point now, right?"

"You little-"

Chloe shifts her hand slightly and Logan immediately snaps his mouth shut. Chloe pitches her voice lower, leaks a little more of her rage with every word. "Shh. You should be more careful about what you say. And _do_. My cousin and I are going, now. Unless you think you and I should talk about your attitude problem more...privately?"

Logan's friends are frowning, not sure what's happening, but sure it's not good. One of them starts moving up on Chloe's left side. The others are spreading out to fill the corridor. In another few seconds, they'll be surrounded.

Kate has a feeling that if someone sensible doesn't do something, there's going to be quite a bit of blood spilled.

Another wild look around and, oh, by Kronus' grace, _she's_ the only viable someone nearby. She takes as deep a breath as she can manage.

"C-cousin, please. I need your help to buy tea for Lady Chase, and to carry it to the Prescotts' box. She'll be furious if we keep her waiting."

Logan's friends are pulling away now, as those names register and with them the realisation that they could get into _trouble_ here. Kate has to pause to push her own little surge of disgust aside.

"Chloe! We don't want to miss the start of the Proving. And I'm sure these...nice men have preparations to make. Isn't that right, Logan?"

He opens his mouth, then winces. He carefully nods instead.

To Kate's immense relief Chloe takes a couple of steps back from Logan. She's still tense, but the little knife has vanished and her voice is suddenly cheerful again.

"Well. Nice to meet you, Logan. Looking forward to seeing you out there." Chloe backs up to Kate, gesturing in the direction of the arena floor.

Logan's face twists and twitches and finally settles into a vicious sneer. "You're competing? Good. You've made a big mistake, little girl. You caught me off guard, but I'll be happy to show you exactly what I can do when we're out there."

Chloe grins. "Well, that shouldn't take long."

Logan bristles, but another warrior grabs his arm. "Come on, brother. Playtime's over. We need to get ready."

Logan nods, glares at Chloe. "I'll see you later."

"Have a nice day!"

Kate grabs Chloe's hand and hustles her off in the opposite direction, only stopping when there's several turnings between Logan and them.

She leans against a wall, closes her eyes and tries to shut out the sounds of the people walking past. She waits for her heart to slow down. Even with her eyes closed, she's very much aware of Chloe leaning quietly against the wall beside her.

She's still a little surprised and flustered when she looks up to find Chloe staring at her intently. "You okay?"

Kate can sense the anger in Chloe, still, but it's tamped down, and there's no edge in the smile she's offering. If anything, she looks a little sheepish.

Shy, even.

Kate's distress abruptly leaves her and she finds some hard to define, but _good_ tangle of emotions welling up within her. She smiles warmly up at the taller woman, says simply: "Yes. Thank you."

Kate's rewarded with the first genuine smile she's seen on Chloe's face. It's sweet and radiant and all too brief. "Oh, that's okay. Anything for family. Nice to meet you, cousin...?"

"Kate. Kate Marsh. Um, just call me Kate." She wilts a bit. She's not supposed to tell anyone her real family name.

"Well, Kate. I'm Chloe...Price. Welcome to Arcardia, where even the streets are paved with assholes. And, uh, thank _you_ for defusing things back there. I get a little carried away sometimes."

Kate shakes her head. "I'm just glad there wasn't any violence. But how did you know I'm not from Arcadia?"

Chloe shrugs. "Easy. You're not an asshole."

Kate snorts out a laugh. She covers her mouth with her hand. "Thanks. Um. Neither are you."

Chloe's smile thins out. "Don't be so sure about that, Kate."

Kate pulls herself up to her full height and summons her fiercest glare. "There were at least a half-dozen other people in that corridor. You're the only one who decided to do something. You are _not_ a...a....You're a good person. I can tell."

Chloe looks down at her, bemused. "Hella! No one's accused me of that before."

Before Kate can find an answer to that, they're interrupted by the sound of a horn ringing out.

"What's that?"

"The first event's going to start in a few minutes. I better go get ready."

Kate sighs. "Are you...do you really have to fight?"

Chloe's expression becomes sombre. "I...yeah. It's a long story, but...yeah. I have to."

"I see." Kate may not know the details, but she can sense the reluctance in Chloe. "Well. Be careful Chloe. Especially if you're going up against Logan. He looked ready to kill you."

Chloe seems quite smug about that. "Oh, I'm sure he's good and pissed."

"Well...." Kate's not normally so impulsive, but as soon as the idea flits into her mind, she stands up on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on Chloe's cheek. "Thank you again. And good luck."

Chloe lets out a startled laugh. "Good luck to you, too." She touches her cheek and shakes her head. "Wait, can you find your way from here?"

Kate nods. "Yes. I'll be fine. I suppose I should hurry, though. I really do need to fetch some tea."

Neither of them move for another moment, though, till Chloe shifts awkwardly and clears her throat. "Uh, Kate?"

"Yes?"

"I kinda need my hand back."

Kate looks down to where she's still gripping Chloe's fingers and quickly lets go, feeling a blush consume her face. "Oh! I'm sorry, I-"

Chloe chuckles. "It's okay. It was nice. Um, meeting you, I mean." She stares at Kate intently for another second. She nods. "Goodbye, Kate."

Then she's striding away, even as Kate calls after her, "Maybe I'll see you after the Proving?"

Chloe glances back, smiles sadly. "Maybe."

Her eyes say no, though, and a few more strides take her round the curve of the wall and out of sight.

* * *

When Kate gets back to the box, with tea and a small plate of dainties, the Duke has arrived but there's still no sign of Nathan. Victoria's stuck between the Duke and the Magistrate, being alternately talked over or down to and there's murder in her eyes when she sees Kate.

"What took you so long?"

The Duchess sniffs. "Such poor service merits a whipping. Do you whip servants in Skald?"

Victoria offers her a poisonous smile. "Unfortunately not." She glances back at Kate. "She'll be punished in...other ways though, I assure you."

Kate's almost positive Victoria's just saying that for the sake of their cover.

She stands behind and a little to the side of Victoria's chair and is actually relieved when the Duke signals the master of ceremonies. She's not looking forward to enduring the Proving, but at least no one's likely to look her way again until it's over. And, in spite of everything, she _does_ feel better. She feels strong enough to get through this now.

She lets her mind drift as Duke Prescott bellows out a speech about the forthcoming union of Arcadia and Skald. Kate wonders if she'll ever see Chloe again. She sensed so much anger and pain in her, but a good heart underneath it, fighting to emerge. And perhaps something...more.

Kate's snapped back to the present by the roar of the crowd. A dozen people make their way onto the sands, and begin spreading out around the edge of the arena as cheers echo round the stands. The fighters below provide an answer to at least one of Kate's questions when she spots Chloe walking out amongst them, looking quite frail from this distance.

She leans over towards Magistrate Wells. "Could you please tell me what this event is?"

Magistrate Wells surprises her with a kind smile. "This first event's something called the Warrior's Circle. It's a test of skill, nerve and endurance. Somewhere between the free-for-all of a melee and the tactical nuance of the duelling circle. They'll take their places around the edge of the arena, evenly spaced out. When the horn sounds, there won't be some rush into the middle, but a series of duels between two or three opponents. Each fighter wants to be the last one standing, so they've got to watch for opportunities to take out their opponents and watch their backs at the same time. Normally fighters will yield before they're badly injured. Mutual respect helps keep the Circle one of the more...dignified bouts."

Kate's still anxious, but she feels some small measure of relief.

Wells swigs from his goblet and sighs. "It can be quite a spectacle, when veteran warriors are involved. But these are mostly young, less disciplined fighters, out to make names for themselves." He grimaces. "It'll be messy. I'd expect a fatality or two."

To Kate's surprise, Duke Prescott chimes in, albeit without deigning to look at her. "Keep an eye on that one, the Mermedonian." He gestures towards a squat, thick-muscled man with pallid skin and a spear cradled in his arms. "I've bet a hundred marks on him. He'll destroy the competition." He chuckles happily. "He'll cause a fatality or two all by himself, I'm quite sure."

Kate's knuckles whiten on the back of Victoria's seat, even as she meekly thanks Wells. Beyond a quick glance, she ignores the Duke's advice and focuses on the girl in the green coat.

Chloe takes her place at the edge of the loose circle, the other fighters all spread out around the arena. Chloe's far away from the Mermedonian, at least. She seems calm, breathing deep and even. She's turned slightly towards the slim young man to her left, watching him take blindingly swift practice swings with his rapier. Chloe's so intent on him she doesn't seem to have noticed who's moved into place on her right.

It's Logan.

Even from here, Kate can see the deadly intent on his face as he stares at Chloe.

A new horn sounds, its note deep and growling. Kate feels her heart pound as the fighters begin to move, looking for any opportunity to strike at an unwary opponent. Chloe turns to more fully face the man with the rapier, who's slowly inching towards her. As Kate feels terror climb from the pit of her stomach and invade her chest and limbs, she sees that Chloe hasn't even drawn her sword. She just shrugs off her coat and starts methodically folding it up.

As she puts her coat down on the arena sand, Chloe leaves her back fully exposed to Logan. He's been watching her, slowly advancing, but now he sees his chance and rushes her, heavy sword raised high in both hands.

Kate finds herself lunging forward, shrieking "Chloe! Look out!"

She's too distracted to notice the shocked looks the others in the box are giving her, too absorbed in the events unfolding below to care.

Chloe can't hear her, though, not over the roar from the stands as the first fighters clash. She's straightening up, reaching at long last for her sword.

Too late.

Logan's looming over Chloe now, and as Kate watches helplessly, he swings hard enough to cut her in two.

Kate can do nothing, only whisper: "Oh, Kronus! No."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh! Chloe is surely DOOMED!
> 
> So, I got this finished really quickly. While the sensible thing to do would be to wait and post it at the end of the week I'm...not very sensible. 
> 
> On a scheduling note, Chapter 4 will definitely, absolutely be going up on Friday the 17th of this month of February. While you'll have slightly more than a week to wait, this chapter's extra long, so it should hopefully tide you over! Subsequent chapters will be appearing on Fridays weekly from here on out. I promise.
> 
> Thanks very much for reading and I'll hopefully see you back here on Friday the 17th!
> 
> P.S. If you'll pardon a bit of shameless self-promotion,* I'll be putting up a fluffy new Pricefield short story on Valentine's Day, called _The Parliament of Fowls_. It picks up a few weeks after my other short story (sort of AmberPrice and yet also slightly Pricefieldy), _Auld Acquaintance_ left off. If, for some reason, you're enjoying this story, it will be almost nothing like this story! 
> 
> P.P.S. You can read _Auld Acquaintance_ , too, if you like. I won't mind.
> 
> *If you _won't_ pardon even a little bit of shameless self-promotion, then I sincerely apologise for bringing the distressing subject up. Don't even go back to where you left off above. You're honestly better off just closing the tab at this point.


	4. Fight Club

Chloe can feel Kate's gaze on her back as she strides away. She's so absorbed in that strange encounter that she doesn't protest when a harassed attendant chivvies her into a tiny waiting room.

She's almost late for the start of the event, and where ritual violence is concerned, punctuality is crucial. Chloe lets herself get yelled at for a minute. When the attendant's done, she sits down on the stone floor and listens to the roar of the crowd.

There's an unaccustomed warmth in Chloe's gut, a lightness of feeling she can't usually approximate without chemical assistance. Her cheek tingles. 

Not where her head should be right now.

She enjoys it for a moment anyway, then forces herself to think about the plan.

Though calling it a plan is a bit of a stretch, since it amounts to nothing more than 'mess up Logan Robertson so that he can't fight for a while'. When Rachel and Jules laid it out for her in the _Two Whales_ this morning, it was pretty clear they were improvising.

One of many reasons to hate this.

Juliet, Gods bless her gossipy little heart, went into the backstory in exhaustive detail. It boils down to this: Juliet's friend, Dana, was romantically entangled with Logan. Logan's a noble's son, a trained warrior and one of Nathan Prescott's bodyguards. Dana dumped Logan. She met and now wants to marry Trevor, a talented metal-worker. Logan, pissed, managed to provoke Trevor into an argument which resulted in Logan challenging Trevor to a duel.

Now, while duels are often used as a means of settling disputes and grievances, duels to the death are forbidden. But given Logan's skill with a blade, Trevor's lack of it, and the willingness of Magistrate Wells to overlook 'accidents' that involve the Prescotts or their cronies, Trevor's likely a dead man. Unless someone intervenes, his execution's set for tomorrow morning.

Rachel being Rachel, she's got some dirt on Logan's second, Zachary, which means that he'll forfeit on Logan's behalf and Trevor will be safe. _If_ Logan doesn't make it into the dueling ring tomorrow.

Which is both where Chloe comes in, and another reason to hate this plan. Chloe's a thief, yes, and she's committed a number of other crimes of which she's not exactly proud. And, true, she's not a stranger to violence. But she doesn't hurt people for money. That's what David does, and Chloe is _nothing_ like that man.

Rachel's best pitch was to think about the money: "I wouldn't ask you normally, but...Juliet needs this. And so do you. Dana's putting up a hundred marks. Juliet and I are matching it. Make sure Logan can't make it into the ring tomorrow and you go a long way to solving your money troubles."

"No. Not even for the full five hundred."

Rachel had leaned in, offering a dazzling grin. "I haven't even told you the best part. Logan's competing in the Grand Proving this afternoon. And it just so happens there's a spot opened up in the first event. The one Logan will be competing in. You could take Logan down and between the fee and the prize money you could earn-"

"So I just compromise my principles, make an enemy of the Prescotts, and do it all in _public_? Great plan, Rachel!"

"It's not like you'll be around long enough for much of that to matter." Chloe's forced to admit, thinking back now, that Rachel had both a point and a distinct edge in her voice.

She and Rachel could have easily argued all morning, but Juliet cut through it all with just a few quiet words. "Please. Chloe...Dana's my best friend. You're the best chance she's got."

It was over after that, and they all knew it. Chloe's protests had been token things, really, and Rachel had all the answers.

No, the Grand Proving wouldn't accept just any walk-in, but Rachel just so happened to have a registration form lacking only Chloe's signature to make her an official fighter in the Proving. Chloe would be taking part in a Warrior's Circle, so yes, just about any weapon was acceptable. And, yes, she would have a chance to get at Logan and no one would be too suspicious if he was badly injured. No, she wouldn't have to win the event to claim a prize, just outlasting half the other fighters would do.

They'd talked over a few more details, given Chloe Logan's description and the registration form and that was that.

So here she is.

She sits in the sweaty little room as the crowd noise dims and a single voice begins a droning oratory. Duke Prescott, no doubt. Not long until the violence starts. Chloe will admit, having seen Logan in action, she's got no qualms about giving him a beating. She still feels awkward about the money, but she can hardly pretend it's the first line she's crossed to get out of Arcadia. To get free.

She's more worried about the crowd, and the attention she's about to draw to herself. But how bad can it be? She'll take out Logan. She'll let herself get taken out a little later. No one's going to remember a loser like her. It should be fine. It will be fine. Chloe sighs. Maybe she should have just dealt with Logan when she had the chance, away from too many eyes. But where would that have left Kate?

Before she recognises the nascent thought for what it is, she finds herself hoping Kate's okay. Kate Marsh with her sad, pretty eyes and deep wells of kindness. She deserves better than the likes of Logan. Void take it, she deserves better than anything she's likely to find in Arcadia. It's been a long time since Chloe's known anyone so straightforward and...nice. In that sense, she reminds Chloe a little bit of Max.

And _that's_ a thought that needs to be pushed away, immediately. So Chloe jumps up and checks to make sure her sabre's loose in its sheath and her sap draws easily out of her pocket. The she starts pacing and quietly singing and trying not to let any unwanted memories loose. In truth, she only vaguely remembers the details of the night she last gave way to even a little of the guilt and rage she associates with Max. She only really came back to herself when someone pulled her bleeding and crying out of the gutter and tried to soothe her and patch her hurts.

Rachel. That was how she first met Rachel.

There's the sharp sound of a bolt being pulled back, and an attendant is opening the door to the arena antechamber. Chloe almost feels relieved at the prospect of imminent violence. It's better than being alone with her memories. She checks her weapons again before walking into the new chamber. She keeps her head down. Tries to take in as much as she can with a few quick glances.

It's a large stone room with a lot of little doors through which the other fighters are all emerging. There's a set of double doors, closed but with enough light and noise leaking through gaps at the top and bottom that it's obvious what's on the other side of them.

Chloe tries to surreptitiously gauge the competition while making herself look as small and helpless as possible. She sees a young warrior with a rapier moving into place beside her. She's thinks his name's Evan. He's beginning to build a reputation for his blade work in the dueling ring. He seems a little out of place here, but there's a reason they call these things Provings. Maybe Evan wants to build his reputation that bit quicker than the duelling ring allows.

Logan swaggers into the antechamber, missing her on his first look round the room. She takes note of the chain hauberk, steel greaves on his forearms and shins, a steel half-helm tucked under his arm. Fairly heavy armour, but with enough vulnerabilities for her to work with. She keeps him in the corner of her eye as she heads towards the big gate that leads to the arena floor. She sees him stiffen when he catches sight of her, sees him move a little closer, hesitate. He slips out of sight behind her and she smiles a little to herself, without looking up.

Any hint of a smile is wiped from Chloe's face when a stocky man an inch or so shorter than her strides into view on her left. He's a barrel-chested man, pale-skinned and dark-haired with at least ten more winters behind him than anyone else in the room. He's bare-chested, showing off an impressive collection of scars and thick slabs of muscle. He's carrying a spear, and two long knives sheathed on a broad leather belt. Hanging from the belt on a series of leather cords are a great many little bones.

Human bones.

He catches her looking and smiles at her, revealing yellowing teeth with tiny symbols carved into their surface. He whispers a single word: "Prey."

Chloe wrenches her gaze away and faces forward again. Pretends she doesn't hear the pleased little noise he makes in his throat.

Engramma Who-Sealed-the-Void. He's a Mermedonian reaver.

Mermedonia's a land far, far to the north, one hostile to travellers and shrouded in secrecy. Elyisum and Mermedonia are separated by a wide sea, which keeps them from trying to destroy each other. But it hasn't prevented killings on both sides. As Elyisans have pushed north, looking to explore and settle the Northlands now that the clans have been all but conquered, their ships and colonies have fallen prey to Mermedonian reavers. And while Elysian warships have destroyed the pirates where they can, more often it's Elysians and the clans alike that have been bled.

Mermedonian reavers never leave survivors. They sometimes take captives, if they're hungry. The like to keep some of the bones of the people they kill as souvenirs. They're near universally despised and feared, particularly in Arcadia, Elysium's greatest port.

But in recent years it seems that Mermedonia has gained a new ruler and a sudden desire for diplomatic relations. And with no King to oppose him, and five other duchies in the country all vying to take control of the throne, Sean Prescott has decided to take allies where he can find them and welcomed the Mermedonians into his city.

It's things like this that make politics a business honest crooks like Chloe prefer to avoid. But there's no reason she can think of why even a Prescott would let a _reaver_ into the city.

Chloe grits her teeth, tries to still her shaking hands. Tries not to think about Max, or the knife sheathed at her back, or-

A deep voice behind her rumbles: "Breathe. Just breathe, lady. Not long, now."

Chloe doesn't need to look back to know that he's Northern clan, the accent's a pretty good clue. Elyisum and the clans have a long and bloody history between them, as tends to happen when neighbours see something they want on the other side of a border. But she was still a child during the last war, and thinks there's fault enough on both sides. Besides, any grudges being held should be worn smooth by how often they've been passed back and forth. At any rate, she's grateful for the steady calm of his voice.

So she nods her head, and breathes and wills the tension out of her body.

A few seconds later, a horn blares and the hinges of the big gates groan as they swing open.

Then the twelve of them are moving from the dim, still room onto the sand and into the gale of cheering voices urging them on to the bloodletting.

They spread out across the sand, form the Circle around the edge of the arena's oval. She glances round and spots the clansman, a tall, well-built man with a red, braided beard. He's wearing a boiled leather breastplate and carrying a war axe over his shoulder. He nods at her. "Helgi Snorrasson. Luck to you."

"Chloe. William's daughter. Luck to you, too."

She manages to position herself far enough away from the Mermedonian and Helgi. Ends up with Evan on her left, and tries to focus more on that side of the arena. Logan's on her right, and she's still pretending she hasn't seen him. She wonders if she's making it too obvious, remembers who she's dealing with. She doesn't think Logan's the subtlest of thinkers.

They're all in place, just waiting for the pain to happen. Chloe touches her cheek again, allows herself one soft thought.

The horn sounds, this time signaling the start of the Proving. There's an explosion of movement as the fighters try to catch their nearest opponent off guard. Chloe takes her time, though. She slips off her coat, folds it up and puts it down carefully beside her. As she does so, she tries to remember why she's doing this. She's getting out of Arcadia soon. She's maybe going to get out of Elysium altogether. She's had dreams about exploring the Northlands, Void take her if she knows why. Point is, the next few minutes aren't about anger or vengeance. This is all about securing her future.

It's time to get to work.

Chloe continues to ignore Logan and instead watches Evan warily advancing on her. He's reputed to be a clever, careful swordsman. But he's someone used to one-on-one matches and seems uncomfortable in this type of fight, glancing around him every couple of steps to make sure no one's coming at his back. He's heading for Chloe, though, that's clear. Seems she's made herself look like an easy target to more than just Logan.

So even as Chloe listens to Logan's rumbling steps and rasping breath close in behind her, she shows Evan the sap she palmed when she put her coat down, and grins at him.

Evan's cautious enough to be worried by Chloe's attitude and patient enough to see the outcome of Logan's attack before committing to his own. He slows down, looks around him again. There's the sound of steel on steel, of blood hitting the sand and the first cries of the wounded. Everyone else is busy. For now, it's just the three of them in this little patch of sand. Good. She has the time she needs.

Logan's big, wearing heavy armour and carrying a long, heavy blade. But he's also angry, so full of the need to hurt Chloe that he isn't thinking clearly. And that means he's been beaten since Chloe stopped him getting into Kate's face. She keeps her back to him, but she can hear him, _feel_ him as he rushes her. She can feel the moment he closes in on her back. The moment he overcommits to the attack.

So that's the moment Chloe drops down suddenly and tucks into a roll that takes her safely under Logan's sword before he even realises it's happening. The pace of his attack carries him forward, past her, allowing her to spring to her feet behind him and a little to his right. He checks, turns and tries to catch her with the backswing, but Chloe's lunging forward, inside his reach. She brings the sap up and down and connects with his right arm between his elbow and the protection of his steel greave. The force she applies added to his own momentum is enough to snap the bones in his forearm, ruin his attack and make him gasp in pain.

For a fraction of a second he's just staring down at her, shock in his eyes. Chloe winks at him.

Evan's watching the whole thing, ten feet away still, but he's smart enough to know that he should be attacking right now while Chloe's busy and he's got the advantage of a long blade against her little club. He starts rushing towards the two of them.

Logan drops his heavy sword, tries to fumble out his dagger with his left hand. Chloe feints high with the sap, and when he flinches back, she darts behind him, putting his bulk between her and Evan. She attacks low, thinking to hit the back of Logan's knee, drop him to the ground without causing any permanent damage. She's already done enough to prevent him dueling tomorrow.

As she moves into Logan's shadow, though, Chloe remembers the way Logan grabbed Kate. Threatened her. She thinks about Kate's kindness. Her soft lips.

Chloe twitches her wrist, changes the angle of the sap. Breaks his knee.

She keeps circling behind Logan even as he collapses to the sand out of the fight. She's completely focused on Evan now, who's moving around Logan in the opposite direction, trying to close the gap between them as quickly as possible. He's in a duelist's stance, keeping his right side to her, rapier point turning in tight little circles in the air. Cautious he may be, but he's no doubt thinking the better part of caution is looking for an opportunity to make a clean lunge and stick her before she can draw her sabre.

Evan's watching her closely, eyes focused on her shoulders, waiting for any telltale twitch. He's smiling, confident. Chloe moves back and away, buying a little time but opening up clear ground between them. A quick look around shows there's a rapidly shrinking pool of fighters still in this. Helgi and the Mermedonian are making short work of the competition. Chloe reckons she can lose here, and still earn enough prize money.

Time to take a dive.

She'll fumble pulling her sabre, pretend to trip, lose her balance just as Evan's getting into striking range. She'll fall back as he thrusts, take a scratch and wind up on her ass, forced to yield. Evan might see through it, but he's unlikely to care if he gets a win and it'll look real enough to the crowd.

She's a step away from doing it when Evan chuckles. "On the run already? I thought perhaps this quiet child might know how to fight."

Oh, Hella! He's an asshole.

Chloe's not sure if it's the Gods' blessing that's made her so confrontational, or if it's just in consequence of the unparalleled shittiness of the last five years, but it doesn't seem to take much to get her angry these days. And maybe's it's just that she doesn't normally get into fights _unless_ she's angry, but it seems like there's times when her blood's running hot that she's stronger, faster than she has any right to be.

And Chloe can feel it right now, like a tide rising in her mind, like fire in her veins. Evan's every move seems to be happening slowly, in fact _everything_ seems to be slowing down, except her heart.

So maybe this is a bad idea, and maybe she needs to rein the anger in before it's completely out of control, but she won't lose to this fucker now.

Evan takes two quick steps and launches himself forward. He's looking to startle her with the sudden motion, then lunge and skewer her before she can dodge.

Chloe tosses the sap after he lands but before he's able to extend into the lunge. He's been waiting for her to try this, of course, and is quick to leap to the right, away from the other fighters and out of the sap's path. But Chloe didn't throw it straight at him, she threw it in an arc. It's a move that confuses him, so much that for nearly half a second he's watching Chloe's only readied weapon follow a trajectory that would never have hit him, even if he hadn't moved.

Chloe wasn't trying to hit him, is the thing. The sideways move on his part takes his point out of line and opens more of his body to attack, while the distraction gives Chloe the time she needs to race forward, pick her target and strike.

Chloe doesn't bother drawing her sword. It'll only slow her down. Besides, Evan's earned a little humiliation.

Chloe imagines a locked door she needs to get through. Imagines the lock plate in line with and six inches behind Evan's crotch. She kicks out with all her might.

He doesn't scream. There's not enough breath left in his body to manage it.

He tries to finish the thrust he started, but his arm's shaking and there's not much strength in it. She dodges easily. She steps inside his reach while pulling her knife with her right hand. She clamps her left on the wrist of his sword arm before he can try anything else with it. He's pale and shaking on his feet, so when she presses her knife to his throat and cheerfully suggests: "Yield?", he simply whimpers and drops his sword. She makes sure he isn't going to try anything more aggressive than vomiting, leaves him to his misery in private.

Well, as private as you can get in the middle of an arena, anyway.

Chloe scans the area quickly as she slips her knife away and finally draws her sabre. In the time it's taken her to put down Evan and Logan, the fighting elsewhere has whittled down the other fighters to just three. The clansman, Helgi, is trying to hold his own against an Arcadian fighter and the Mermedonian who seem to have formed a temporary alliance.

Even as Chloe starts jogging to the other side of the arena, the clansman's defence falters. The Arcadian charges in, trying to end the fight, but Helgi's ready for him. His axe whips up, one head deflecting the Arcadian's downward slash, while his fist crashes into the Arcadian's gut. He staggers, gasping and Helgi drives the butt of his axe into his face.

The Arcadian drops to his knees, dazed, but Helgi's left himself open for real this time, and the Mermedonian's spear point punches through Helgi's leather breastplate and comes back out slick with blood.

Chloe's still twenty feet away and can only watch as Helgi staggers back, gasping in pain. The Arcadian tries to struggle to his feet, but the reaver just laughs, plucks a knife from his belt with his left hand and opens the Arcadian's throat with one quick swipe. He laughs again and salutes with the spear in his right hand as the crowd roars with hate and ecstasy.

The Mermedonian turns back to Helgi. Helgi darts in, tries a clumsy overhead blow with his axe, but the Mermedonian twists out of the way. He twists back and slashes Helgi's thigh with his knife before Helgi can recover. Helgi tries to back away, give himself room to strike, but his leg gives out and he slips. Before he has a chance to right himself, the Mermedonian slams the butt of his spear into Helgi's face. Helgi drops onto his back, senseless and the Mermedonian laughs again. He stands over Helgi's head. He gently places the butt of his spear against Helgi's throat, and slowly presses down, a happy little smile on his face.

He looks up quick enough when Chloe's shadow falls across him, though.

She doesn't recognise her own voice when she says, "Leave him alone. You're not done fighting yet, fucker."

He laughs. "Prey." He draws the syllable out, makes it a whole conversation. Takes a few steps away from Helgi, drops into a ready stance, spear in his right hand aimed at her chest.

"Yeah. Prey." She closes the last ten feet between them slowly, trailing the point of her sabre in the sand. She doesn't hear the jeers and boos of the crowd demanding they fight. Just the hiss of the sand, the rasp of his breath and her own flat voice. "Wanna hear a story?"

Chloe stops walking. She's not close enough to hit him, but close enough to get hit by his spear.

His eyes are fever bright and there's blood on his arms, his chest.

"My best friend's name was Maxine Caulfield. It wasn't always easy to make her smile: she was shy, nervous. But she had the best smile. I lived for that smile."

He shows her his teeth.

"Her family left Arcadia five years ago. Pioneers, out to make a new colony in the Northlands."

He tilts his head, waits for her next words. There's no real curiosity in his face. Just a kind of hunger.

"My family was going too, part of the same expedition. But my mom got sick. Fever. She died. My dad and I stayed to...take care of everything. I could've gone with Max, but I didn't want to leave my dad. We found another ship though, a few weeks later, that would take us and a few others far enough north. We were going to join up with the colony, with the Caulfields. Build a new life. Wasn't anything left for us in this shit pit." Chloe waves her left arm to encompass the amphitheatre, the people, the city.

The crowd's mostly quiet now. They can't really hear her, but they can sense the tension building in the fighters on the sand.

"The day we took ship, the storm came. Killed a lot of people. Killed my dad. Not me, though. Ha! Anyway, I spent years hoping the Caulfields would come back, that Max would come back. Rescue me. When I realised they never would, I spent a solid year hating them. Hating _her_ for leaving me."

She hears the Mermedonian make another pleased little sound in his throat, sees him shift stance just slightly. She can hear Helgi's pained breaths.

"About two years ago, I overheard a story in a tavern. Turns out the _Venture_ , the ship my friend left on? Well, it was too far out to get destroyed by the storm, but it did get hit by heavy weather. Gales. They got blown off course, had to run way too far to the north. Into Mermedonian waters. The ship was found eventually. Drifting. A few bodies missing, but no survivors. There's never survivors, right?"

He speaks, voice soft, almost cooing. "Maybe I wear one of her bones, hmm? Maybe not. Your sweet friend is surely dead, either way."

Chloe briefly closes her eyes, sees Max's face again. "I know."

She catches the head of his spear in her left hand, stops his thrust dead an inch short of her heart. She snaps the spearhead off with a flick of her wrist, staggering the Mermedonian.

She doesn't think about the pain or the blood trickling down her fingers.

She opens her eyes and smiles at the fear on his face.

"And now you know why you're dead, too."

Chloe lifts her sabre out of the sand. She finally lets all the anger out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for reading. I know this is something that, at best, scrapes at the fringes of the fandom. It's also very much a massive and sometimes painful learning curve for me to write, so I really do appreciate you giving this story a chance. 
> 
> Anyway! Cheers! See you next week!


	5. The Prize

There's a moment of silence after what's left of the Mermedonian hits the ground.

Victoria turns her shocked face toward Kate, who gives her a tiny nod.

Then comes a trickle of shocked whispers, building to a murmur as people find their voices. Then a flood of cheering and howling as they lose their minds.

Kate turns her attention back to Chloe.

She watches Chloe drop her sabre, turn away and stumble over to her coat. Watches her grab fistfuls of sand and try to scrub the blood off her fingers. Watches her pick up the battered old garment and hug it to herself with her right hand. Watches her plod out of the arena, head hanging low as the crowd roar and cheer for her.

Duke Prescott is politely furious. "Who is that...girl? Does anyone recognise her?"

Kate blanches when the Duke turns and stares right at her. Before she can think of anything to say, Victoria intervenes.

"According to the rules you yourself set, Your Grace, her victory prize means that she's my new bodyguard." Her voice is deceptively mild. 

He turns sharply towards her. "I don't think that would be appropriate, Victoria. We know nothing about this girl. Aside from the fact that she's unstable. And clearly dangerous."

Victoria smiles sweetly. "Dangerous is a useful quality in a bodyguard, don't you think? And she seems a lot more stable than the reaver _you_ championed, Sean."

Kate gulps and thinks about making a break for the exit.

Magistrate Wells clears his throat. "Excuse me, Your Grace. In fact, I do know the young lady. Her name is Chloe Madsen. She's the...niece of an associate of mine. Lady Chase, I fear that Duke Prescott is correct. I don't think she'd make a suitable companion-"

"I think she's perfectly suitable as a watchdog. I don't plan on inviting her to join us for family fucking dinners."

Magistrate Wells grimaces and shifts in his seat. He looks nervously at the Duke. "Sir, perhaps you might allow me to make some inquiries? I'm sure I could conduct a quiet...interview with Ms. Madsen and spare any public embarrassment."

"Very well. Expedite it please, Magistrate."

Kate can see how white Victoria's knuckles are where they grip the armrests of her seat. Kate quickly blurts out, "Lady Chase! Um, did you remember to take your tonic? For your headaches?"

Victoria twists round and glares at Kate. "Kate, what are you..." Her eyes widen. "Don't tell me you forgot to bring it?"

Kate bows her head as every pair of eyes in the box suddenly focus on her. She hears the Duchess sniff disapprovingly. "Perhaps I should go to the healers and see if they can-"

Victoria snorts and pushes herself upright. "You're nothing but an embarrassment today, Kate. If I don't supervise you, you'll only mess this up, too."

Duke Prescott frowns and waves a hand towards the arena sands where attendants are clearing the bodies and helping the wounded. "I can send someone. Someone competent. It would be a shame if you missed the next event."

Victoria performs a graceful curtsey and pours honey on her words. "Thank you, Your Grace, but I would like to stretch my legs. I'll return as swiftly as I can to enjoy the entertainment." She turns, snaps her fingers in Kate's face and snarls, "Come on."

They leave the box behind them, Victoria waving away the guards who offer to escort them. Victoria sets a brisk pace in the direction of the fighters' wing of the amphitheatre where the healers and, hopefully, Chloe will be. Kate has to jog to keep up with her longer legs.

When they've gone far enough to gain some privacy, Victoria slows down and lets Kate walk alongside her at a more manageable speed. "Kate? What the fuck is going on? Who is Chloe Madsen and why am I sticking my neck out for her?"

"She's obviously been blessed by the Gods, Victoria."

Victoria hisses out a breath. "Maybe."

In ages past, the Gods bestowed blessings on their Chosen. A portion of their divinity, their essence, infused into mortal beings. All of Elysium's noble houses can trace their lineage to the Gods' Chosen. Divine essence is passed on, through the bloodlines, diluted over the centuries, but still granting superior instincts and powers to the blessed. Elysian noble families protect the divine bloodlines jealously. Though of course, where humans are concerned, there's always...fallibility.

It's rare, but not unknown, for a child to be born outside the bloodlines with a tiny spark of the divine essence of one of the Gods in their veins.

It's rarer still for such a child to escape the notice of the priesthood for nearly twenty years, but there's no other explanation for Chloe's obvious gifts.

"I don't know who she is exactly, Victoria, but I believe the Gods put her in our path for a reason. We have to find her before any of the Magistrate's people do."

"You don't know who she is? You were screaming her name in front of the fucking Duke! Which won't be suspicious at all when she becomes part of our _secret mission_."

"I'm sorry! I...I met her before the fight. She was kind to me, and I thought Logan was going to kill her."

Victoria pinches the bridge of her nose. "Now I really am getting a fucking headache. Just tell me what happened already."

So Kate tells her everything.

* * *

They make their way back to where Kate jostled Logan an hour and a lifetime ago. Amongst the commotion of warriors and amphitheatre staff preparing the next event, no one challenges them as they make their way deeper into the underground maze of tunnels in search of the healers.

It only takes a few minutes to find the healers' rooms. After opening the wrong door several times, they finally slip into a quiet room with just two people in it. Chloe's sitting on a bench having her hand bandaged. Her eyes are red and her face weary. She looks small, huddled listlessly in her coat. The woman working on Chloe's hand glances up but Chloe just stares into space.

"Chloe?"

She stirs, slowly gathers herself. She looks at Kate and furrows her brow. "Kate?"

"Chloe, I...we need to talk. And there's not much time." Kate looks at the medic who looks back, eyebrows raised. "Perhaps, if you're finished here, there are other people to tend to?"

Victoria snorts and strides over to the woman. "Go be anywhere else and keep your mouth shut." She presses silver into her waiting hand and the healer wordlessly leaves, closing the door behind her.

Chloe's staring at her. "Kate, what are you doing here? You...you shouldn't be anywhere near me."

"Chloe, listen to me. After the...the fight, Magistrate Wells said he knew you. He was telling the Duke about you. I think they want to question you about...what happened."

Victoria laughs. "After the display you put on, one or two people might have gotten the impression that you are among the blessed. Oh, and you killed the Duke's favourite. He had silver bet on him, too. So I'd say it's less 'questions', more...violent interrogation followed by a cell or a grave."

As Victoria talks, she can see Chloe staring at Victoria with increasing comprehension. When she's finished, Chloe jumps up, cursing. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have listened to...never mind. Thanks Kate, I seriously owe you. But I've got to disappear right now."

Victoria gestures sharply and Kate reluctantly steps back and leans agains the door. Chloe's grateful expression changes to confusion.

"What are you doing?"

Victoria steps in front of Chloe. "We're not done talking yet."

Kate can see confusion rapidly giving way to anger and tries a more conciliatory tone. "Chloe, you have to listen to me. We can get you out of here, but I need you to trust us."

"No, Kate. I don't want you getting into trouble because of me. Just let me-"

"Chloe, _listen_ to me! This is Lady Victoria Chase. You can't outrun the Magistrate and the Duke, but she can shield you from them."

She simply steps around Victoria and addresses Kate again. "Kate, get out of my way. I don't want to...just...get away from the door, please?"

"Madsen isn't a noble family. Neither is Price."

Chloe's right hand bunches into a fist and she turns on Victoria who stands her ground unflinching. Her breathing is ragged. "What did you say? How did...Wells. Shit! You didn't tell anyone else my name's Price did you?"

Victoria slowly shakes her head. "Not yet. But there's a much more important question here." She nods at Kate.

Kate closes her eyes. She asks, very softly, "Which God?"

"...What?"

"Lady Chase is here for more than just her wedding. And I'm not really her maid. I'm a priestess of Aram the Just. We have a sacred mission to perform Chloe, on behalf of the Gods and the people of Elysium."

Kate opens her eyes, reluctantly. Chloe looks suddenly very young and very scared.

"You have been blessed, Chloe. There's divine essence in your veins. Part of me knew that when we first met. After seeing you fight, a lot of people will have suspicions. I have no doubts at all, though. I... _we_ want to help you. And I think you're meant to help us, too. But we have to be honest with each other. So. Which God blesses you?"

Chloe slumps, misery etched in her features. Kate wants to reach out, to reassure her. But she just stays where she is, and waits.

"Hella. I think it was Hella. Five years ago. I don't remember exactly how it happened, though. And She's been pretty fucking tight-lipped on the subject."

Kate feels the moorings of the world unfix themselves. She's glad she's leaning on the door, or she thinks she might have fallen.

Victoria scoffs. "Right, yeah. Okay, let's hear this ridiculous story."

Chloe doesn't seem to notice her at all. "It was the storm. The storm that hit Arcadia? I...I was the only survivor. I was in the ocean and...it must have been Hella. That's the only thing that makes sense. Though why she'd save _me_..." Chloe abruptly turns away and stomps back to the bench. She leans against it, her back turned to both of them.

Then the full implications of what that means begin to sink in. If what Chloe says is true, she's...oh, Gods, she's not some offshoot of an ancient bloodline. She's the first new Chosen in over one hundred years. This is beyond Kate. It's more, far more, than she can cope with.

Kate and Victoria exchange a look. Kate can feel her heart thundering and even Victoria's starting to look a little rattled.

Victoria stares at Chloe. "You survived the storm? And you weren't...you weren't born blessed?"

Chloe's voice is thick, tight. "That's what I just said, isn't it?"

Kate feels suddenly giddy. "Victoria! Do you know what this means? It's the storm that brought us here, the Gods are...the Gods are intervening. They...They're guiding us-"

"Shut up, Kate. Right now." Victoria's tone is flat, not full of her usual spite and scorn. She's staring at Chloe.

Kate stops talking, follows the direction of Victoria's gaze and suddenly realises that Chloe's shoulders are shaking, her body trembling. She's making muffled sounds as she tries to hide her sobs.

She was a child when the storm hit Arcadia. Her family... Kate feels scoured with shame. She quickly crosses the room, puts her hand on Chloe's back. "I'm sorry, Chloe. I'm so sorry for your loss."

Chloe jerks away from her. She paces towards the wall, swiping at her face. She takes a minute, before she faces them again, arms folded and face closed off.

"So, now what?"

There are a lot of things Kate wants to say, words of comfort and guidance. But they all wither on her tongue.

"Now you have to swear an oath of loyalty to me," Victoria says.

Chloe raises an eyebrow.

"Once you're sworn to me, we can tell you everything. And Duke Prescott won't be able to go after you. Not openly, at least." Victoria frowns. "You fought hard enough to win the right to be my bodyguard. You must've known this would be coming."

Chloe shakes her head, shoulders quivering. For a moment, Kate's worried that Chloe's going to cry again. She bursts out laughing.

Victoria bristles. "What's so fucking funny?"

"You...you nobles! You think _that's_ a prize? Hella! I thought I was going to get money. You know, something useful?"

Victoria's reduced to indignant sputtering, but Kate can't help but blurt out, "You were just fighting for _money_? With the gifts you have-"

Chloe's voice is soft, but her eyes are cold and hard. "You don't know me, Kate. Or my reasons. And _you_." She jabs a finger at Victoria. "I'm not swearing loyalty to you for the rest of my fucking life. I'll take my chances on my own."

Victoria scoffs. "Suits me. Come on, Kate, this is just a waste of-"

"Five days!"

They both look at her.

"Victoria's marrying Nathan Prescott in five days time. If we haven't found-

"Kate, you can't tell her-"

"If we haven't found what we're looking for by then, it won't matter anymore. Just swear to be loyal for five days, Chloe."

Chloe bites her lip. "You're...really a priestess?"

"Yes. Although, I...I only took my vows last month."

"You're being on the level with me about this...sacred mission stuff?"

"Yes. We're trying to stop a war. And I believe you're meant to help us, Chloe."

She's quiet for a long time before slowly, reluctantly nodding. "Okay. Five days. After that, I'm gone."

Victoria sighs. "Thank the Gods. Can we get a move on? I need to get back soon."

Kate nods. "Join hands."

Chloe baulks for a moment, but she takes Victoria's hand. Kate takes hold of each of their free hands. As soon as she does, she feels the powerful energies wakening in both women. "Chloe Price. Do you swear to protect Victoria Chase from all who would harm her? And to obey her commands as if they were your own desires? For, um, the next five days."

Chloe looks far from happy about that, but her defiant look fades as she makes eye contact with Kate. She sucks in a deep breath, grunts, "Sure. I...swear."

"Victoria-"

"I swear to take Chloe Price as my vassal. To offer her shelter and to only give her commands that increase both our honour." Victoria rolls her eyes. "For, um, the next five days," she adds woodenly.

Kate gathers her focus and concentrates on the divine essence within each woman. "And so you are bound."

Kate can feel it when their energies flare, mingle, and recede. She can feel the oath, an invisible tether binding them.

Victoria gasps. "She...she really is one of Hella's Chosen..."

Chloe snatches her hands away. "What the fuck just happened? What...what did you do to me?"

Kate feels the blood drain from her face. "I thought you knew..."

"Knew what? Huh?"

Victoria shivers, coming out of her reverie. "When people like us swear oaths, our essence makes them truly binding. You can't break this oath, Chloe. Not without serious consequences."

Chloe's shaking with anger, and staring at Kate. "You...you ask me to trust you, then you fucking make me into some sort of... _slave_?"

Kate feels tears sting her eyes and she does not want to cry, not in front of...Victoria. "No! It isn't like that! And...and, we don't have a choice-"

"Right. Mission first, everything else can just go-"

"Enough!" Victoria gets into Chloe's face, pushes her away from Kate. "We don't have time for this. It is not Kate's fault. And it is done. Get over it."

"Is that an order?"

"No, _this_ is an order: Tell no one else about our mission unless I say it's okay."

Chloe hunches instinctively. She slowly relaxes when nothing happens.

Victoria pinches the bridge of her nose again. "Crikos give me strength. You'll know it if you try to break one of my commands. Just like I will if I try to make you do something awful. It works both ways, okay?"

Chloe nods warily. "Okay. For now."

"Fine! Now we need to get moving. I've taken too long here as it is. Kate, get Chloe to my carriage and get her somewhere out of sight while I smooth things over with the Prescotts. Fill Chloe in on everything and see what the two of you can figure out. Chloe, look after Kate and if she gives you an order, don't argue with her. Let's go."

Victoria storms out of the room, not waiting for a reply. That leaves Kate and Chloe staring awkwardly at each other.

Chloe looks away and rubs the back of her neck. "Sorry I yelled at you," she mumbles.

"It's okay."

Chloe's shoulders tense and she looks Kate in the eye. Her gaze is intense, but far from hostile. "No, it's not. I'm confused and...scared. But I shouldn't take that out on you."

Kate feels a flutter of something warm in her chest.

Relief. That they're making up. That's what it must be.

"Will you trust me for a little while, Chloe? At least for long enough for us to talk and figure out the next step. Please?"

Chloe scrubs her face with her hands, shakes herself. She finds a crooked grin from somewhere. "Sure. What else can go wrong today, right?"

* * *

So of course, Logan's friends from an hour ago are waiting for them at the end of the hall.


	6. Teas

Finding five armed men in the corridor blocking her exit is, in a way, a relief.

After five years of hiding, Chloe's just been outed to exactly the kind of people she's striven to avoid: a member of the priesthood and the daughter of one of the most powerful nobles in the country. Not to mention any of the maybe five thousand other people who might be wondering how she...did what she did in the arena.

Into the bargain, she's made an enemy of Duke Prescott, got Magistrate Wells' attention, and she's sworn some kind of unbreakable oath that lets Lady Victoria Fucking Chase order her around. Oh, and joined some kind of secret holy mission that's meant to stop a war. 

Dealing with a bunch of angry idiots is just the sort of distraction she needs right now.

Her Ladyship's attempts to keep the warriors at bay falter as soon as Chloe comes into view. The five of them tense up, lock eyes on Chloe and reach for their weapons. She recognises most of them from her and Kate's earlier run-in with Logan. They've got a new leader, though.

Showing a poor grasp of how bodyguards work, Victoria positions herself between them and Chloe. She tries to get the ringleader's attention again. "It's...Zach, isn't it? We met at the Ducal palace. You know, where my betrothed lives? May I ask why you're in my fucking way?"

"I'm sorry, my lady, but...the healers say Logan won't walk without a limp for the rest of his life. Because of _her_." He points at Chloe.

" _She_ is my newly sworn bodyguard and she's coming with-"

"It doesn't matter who she is, we're not letting her just walk away!"

Kate steps forward. "Please, there has to be a peaceful solution-"

"Best you get out of the way now, miss. This is about honour, and-"

Ah, there it is. _Honour_. Chloe's tired and heartsore. But Zach's blown his hot air across the charred places where her anger guttered out in the arena, and what do you know? Turns out there's still some glowing embers ready to flare up.

And fuel to burn.

There's two sharp pops as Chloe cracks her neck. As all eyes focus on her, she slowly rolls her shoulders. She strides forward, pushing gently past Kate and stopping a few paces short of Zach. She lets the little sparks of anger in her heart ignite and grins at him, cocks her head. "So, you're Zach, huh? Hey, did you just threaten somebody I'm guarding?"

Zach blinks, suddenly uncertain. "No, I-"

"Because I'll have you know I take my bodyguarding very seriously. I have never let a threat go unanswered. Not in all my days of guarding bodies. I hope we're going to have a problem here."

Zach and his allies all look confused. Zach tries to recover. "Don't you mean...hey! We _do_ have a problem with you! You broke Logan's-"

"Heart? No, that was somebody else."

Zach turns pale. "What?"

Chloe smiles sweetly. "Zach. I know you're a busy man. I'm willing to let the whole threatening my bodies here go."

Chloe half turns and waves her hand vaguely in Kate and Victoria's direction, mostly so she can see Vicky's expression. She's making little sputtering noises and her face is very red and very angry.

It's the small pleasures that make life worth living.

She turns back to Zach. "But, Zachary, it seems like the least you can do is drop the whole Logan thing and let us go. Particularly since I _know_ you have to be up early tomorrow. Right?"

Chloe doesn't know what Rachel has on Zach, but it must be good, given how much he's sweating.

There's a chorus of growls from the men behind him, though. He shakes his head, eyes desperate. "I can't just...there's only one way to settle this. I demand satisfaction."

Void take it!

Victoria finally explodes. "A duel? Are you fucking kidding me? She beat your friend in a fair fight, you can't challenge her!"

Zach straightens up, face resolute. "It's within my rights. Those injuries were beyond what was called for."

"No." Chloe's voice is cold enough to freeze all of them. "You're thinking about what I did to the Mermedonian."

It's a memory she can't afford to look at too closely, one that will feature in her nightmares for the rest of her days. She lets just enough of it into the forefront of her mind, puts it into her voice. "Logan was lucky. Anyone wanting to push this matter further might not be."

There's a moment's silence, and Chloe waits it out, looking each of the young men in the eye. None of them can meet her gaze for long.

Zach steels himself and opens his mouth, but the only way out now is through, so Chloe cuts him off before he can get started. "So when Zach and I are done in the dueling ring, I am not going through this bullshit again with the rest of you assholes, clear?"

"What? How dare you-"

"Easily. Now, who's your second?"

"Hayden, at the Ducal Palace. But-"

"I'll send my second to Hayden, get all the details sorted. We're done here." 

"You can't just-"

She takes another step forward, stares Zach dead in the eye. "You're blocking Lady Victoria Maribeth Chase from returning to the _Prescott_ box to enjoy the Grand Proving called in _her_ honour. After you threatened her personal attendant. They are both under _my_ care. Last chance to walk away."

There's an interesting couple of seconds where Chloe wonders if she'll have to find out if she's bluffing or not. Zach nods stiffly and growls, "Let's go."

They go.

Chloe turns to find Kate gazing at her with very wide eyes and Victoria with her jaw hanging loose.

Chloe grins, winks at Kate and offers Victoria a deep bow. "Shall we proceed, Your Almost Grace?"

"Don't call me that! What did you just...where in the Void did you pull all that from?"

Chloe shrugs. "This isn't the first time I've played bodyguard." Last time was part of a con Rachel was running. No need to mention that. "And you know you're one of the most famous people in the country, right? You're middle name's not a secret. And the Code Duello's about as simple as the people who use it." She tries to keep the bitterness out of her tone but can't help adding, "And I've had enough fighting for today."

"That's...actually quite impressive." It sounds like it hurt Victoria to say that. Suddenly, she narrows her eyes. "Who's your second?"

"Uh...let me worry about that."

"You don't have one, do you?"

"By the time Zach figures that out, it'll all be moot anyway-"

Victoria's suddenly right in her face. "You are my vassal. Your conduct affects _my_ reputation. Which means when you give your word, you have to keep it, because you're also giving _mine_. So you're going to find a second and you're fighting this fucking duel this week. And you're winning. That's an order."

"You have no idea what you-"

Kate clears her throat. "We'll take care of everything, my lady. I'll see you back at the palace tonight.

Victoria nods at Kate. She aims one last glare at Chloe before storming off.

Chloe suddenly regrets not taking the opportunity to hit someone earlier. She looks at Kate, who's studying the stone floor and shuffling her feet. "Okay, okay! Let's just get out of this dump."

* * *

It's not until they're finally out of the amphitheatre and under the open sky that Chloe feels some of the tension leave her body.

The clouds have gone and the day has blossomed. With the sun out, it's a warm afternoon, so she takes off her coat and slings it over her right shoulder. She pauses to unclip the empty scabbard flapping at her side and tosses it over her shoulder, too. She gets a chance to have a good look around her as she does, sees quite a few other people coming and going.

And a few just standing around, watching.

She starts walking beside Kate towards the outer gates of the amphitheatre.

Fatigue comes like a tide, building wave upon wave with every step.

Kate, who's been stealing nervy little glances at her when she thinks Chloe's not looking, touches the back of her bandaged hand.

It takes too much effort not to flinch away. The memory of the last time they touched is still raw. She's pretty sure Kate wasn't trying to set her up with that oath business, but Chloe can feel a lingering sense of Victoria's presence in the back of her mind, even now. And she's very aware of all the commands imposed on her in the space of fifteen minutes. She's got to endure another four-and-a-half days of this.

She can't really afford to trust Kate. Not completely. And, really, it's better for Kate in the long run if she doesn't get close to Chloe.

It still makes her feel shitty when Kate snatches her hand back and looks...stricken.

Kate turns away from her. "I was just going to say that you're going the wrong way. Victoria's carriage is over here."

Chloe looks over where Kate's facing and sees a carriage, driver, and horses all decked out in Prescott livery. Her tired body wants nothing more than to make friends with all of them and let herself be whisked away.

But...she touches Kate's shoulder, gets her attention. "It's a nice afternoon. Fancy a walk, my lady?"

Kate blushes. "What? Oh, but Victoria...Lady Chase said-"

"That's not Vicky's carriage."

Kate giggles and shakes her head. "Please don't call her that where she can hear you. But, that carriage is for her personal use..."

"Sure. Given to her by the Prescotts. Along with that driver. If we want to avoid trouble with the Prescotts and their people, it'll help to actually...avoid them. Besides, it'll be easier to spot whoever's following us if we're walking."

To Chloe's chagrin, Kate starts looking wildly around her. "We're being followed?" She almost squeaks the question.

Chloe throws an arm around Kate's shoulders. She pulls her close, forcing her to stop trying to peer behind them. "Hey, no need to tip them off if they are. Pretty sure there'll be a couple of pairs of eyes on us from here on out, though. I wouldn't worry, they won't try anything if we stay out in public."

"Oh." Kate's bright red. Must be embarrassed about her mistake.

Chloe laughs. "It's okay, you're clearly new to skullduggery. Just keep an eye out for someplace we can stop and talk. I'll watch our backs."

It's tempting to keep her arm around Kate, lean some weight on her, but she won't do that. She removes her arm, starts to take a step away. She's a little startled when Kate prevents her, reaching out and slipping her arm through Chloe's.

She looks up at Chloe, timid and defiant, and softly says, "You can lean on me if you want, Chloe."

Chloe smiles sheepishly. "I'm okay. Just been a long day."

They walk arm in arm out of the amphitheatre and down the sloping streets into the heart of Arcadia. Chloe steers them aimlessly, keeping her eyes roving. She figures it's best to stay away from the docks for now, no need to get tangled up with any of David's people.

Gods, David is going to be _pissed_. Maybe she can dodge him for the next five days?

Right, and maybe she'll be able to find someone willing to be her second so she can fight a pointless duel. Maybe Rachel's forger will waive the nearly two hundred marks Chloe doesn't have. Maybe she'll actually get out of this Void-claimed city on Kronsday.

"Chloe?"

Chloe stops, adjusts her coat and scabbard. She quickly looks around, spots a face she saw hanging around outside the amphitheatre on the opposite side of the street. That's one. She lets Kate take her arm and they get moving again. "What's up?"

"This duel...is it...my fault?"

" _What_? Of course not! Vic kinda made things worse, but you didn't do anything."

"You can't blame Lady Chase! You did lie. She couldn't let you compromise her honour."

Chloe fails to stifle a yawn, and turns away from Kate for the duration. In the process, she sees another familiar face pausing to admire an oak tree. Two.

"You're from Skald, right?"

"Yes, but-."

"Well, I don't know much about Skald, but see if this sounds familiar. The dueling ring isn't really restricted to nobles, though most disputes involve them. It's used to settle personal matters that don't require the Magistrate's intervention. Duels to the death are forbidden. The people involved in the argument don't even have to fight, they can hire a stand-in. Where's the harm, right?"

"Well, people do get hurt. It's a horrible practice, but at least when it's done in the open, legally, there's less deaths..."

"That's how it's supposed to be, yeah. But the reality's different. Duels usually involve nobles because nobles have _honour_. And honour has to be defended from any insult. Thing is, when you have honour _anything_ can be an insult. Like some common born merchant winning a shipping contract away from your family. Or an angry parent accusing you of adultery. You can't or don't want to go to the Magistrate, so...you find a pretext. Get that parent into the ring, shut them up that way. It's your right, after all. That merchant? Well, they can afford to hire a professional duelist, just like you, but they've got a hot-headed son or daughter. Challenge them and their pride'll make them your hostage. The dueling ring is rigged to benefit the nobles, and when someone like Wells is the Magistrate, anyone who isn't a noble doesn't stand much fucking chance."

"I'm no fan of the dueling ring, Chloe. I know those kinds of things do happen, but they're the exceptions-"

"Maybe in Skald. But when the right people want it, the ring's pretty much legalised murder in Arcadia. You think Zach would've pushed me as hard as he did with such a flimsy excuse if there wasn't someone backing him? With Lady Chase staring him down?"

"You think Duke Prescott put him up to it?"

"If he can't go against me openly, this is one way of doing things, right? You think this duel will stop if I apologise to Logan? Or after first blood? They want me dead, Kate, and thanks to Her Vicship, I've got to take on a trained duelist on his ground."

"Maybe he doesn't want you dead. Maybe he just wants to know who you are and what you can do. Maybe this is a test. Since Lady Chase _is_ preventing him from going after you directly."

"Huh. You might be right. Shit, that's a scary thought. And I see you're still making the case for Lady Chase. You're more devious than you look, aren't you?" Kate laughs and shakes her head, loosening a few more strands of hair from her disintegrating bun. They spill across Chloe's bare arm, tickling her skin.

Kate sighs. "You're making me see things in a different light, I suppose."

"Well...anyway, this duel's pretty much got Prescott's name all over it. What made you think it was your fault?"

Kate blushes. "Oh. I...thought maybe you hurt Logan because of...me."

"Maybe he got it a little worse, but I was there for him anyway."

It takes a few seconds, but Kate's glare finally burns through some of the fog in Chloe's brain. "Uh...that probably should've stayed an inside thought..."

Kate stops and Chloe's forced to come to a halt in the middle of the street. "This is not the best place-"

"Why were you at the amphitheatre today, Chloe?"

"Because I needed money. And we need to move."

Kate doesn't budge, though. She just stares at Chloe.

"Fine! I was there because Logan's one of those honourable pieces of shit who get to legally murder people in the dueling ring, okay? He was going to kill the betrothed of someone I know tomorrow, out of fucking spite. So my friends and I figured out how to stop him. And, yes, after I saw the way he treated _you_ , the Void can fucking take him. He'll limp, but he gets to walk away from this. Trevor wouldn't have."

Chloe realises she's been yelling and abruptly faces forward and starts walking again, pulling Kate along with her. The burst of anger that thinking about Logan awoke rapidly fades and leaves her utterly drained.

Kate's quiet for a few minutes. Finally, she says, "I understand. It's awful. What you had to do. It's even worse that Zach is using it as an excuse to try to hurt you. For doing the right thing."

"Kate...I'm getting paid for hurting Logan. There's nothing right or honourable about any of this shit. Or me."

Chloe is once again subjected to piercing scrutiny. "I wish you'd stop doing that."

"What?"

"Pretending that you're a bad person. It isn't going to work. I see you, Chloe Price."

"Oh, yeah? What do you see?"

Kate's voice is firm. "That you're tired and in need of rest and refreshment. Let's stop soon, okay?"

"...okay."

Kate inches closer as they walk, until her pleasant warmth is against Chloe's side.

It's distracting, and Chloe needs to try and stay alert. She can't quite find a way to protest, though.

Chloe killed a man today. Butchered him, in fact.

That sudden thought burns more of the fog off her mind along with whatever good feeling is left in her.

The man she killed was as bad as they get, but it doesn't make ending his life any easier to bear. And the fear and suffering Chloe put into his eyes before the end...

Kate gasps and squeezes Chloe's arm, has Chloe reaching for her knife and looking for a threat.

They're on a cobbled street in one of the nicer parts of town. The sun is sinking, but there's still enough light to see by. There's a few folk going about their business, but no one who looks like an immediate threat. The only other thing of note is...

"A tea house! Let's stop here!" Kate's almost giddy with excitement.

Chloe pauses, glances around. She spots two men idling in the street who don't quite belong, two she hasn't seen before. At least four of them shadowing. She notes the alley beside the tea house, the height of and distance between the surrounding buildings. She summons her mental map of the city and plots routes from here to the docks. She shrugs. "It'll do."

Kate almost yanks her arm off dragging her across the street and into the tea house.

* * *

It's maybe half full and most of its customers look like merchants and craftspeople.There's a patina of neglect to the place that doesn't quite extend to it being run down. The tablecloths are white and new, but the tea sets are cheap, and the once plush wall hangings look a little threadbare. The ground floor is mostly open space filled with a scattering of tables and dominated by the grand staircase leading to the upper floor, which serves as a balcony.

There's a kitchen in back and the scent of food has Chloe's stomach growling angrily.

It's a safe enough place to stop for an hour or so.

When a waiter approaches them, Chloe asks for a seat on the balcony and in a few moments is sitting at a table where she can keep an eye on the front door and on the main stairway.

Kate looks over a menu eagerly. "What kinds of tea do you like? It looks like they have a good variety here!"

"There's more than one kind? I don't really care, I just want something to drink. And food. Lots of food."

"You...don't like tea?"

"Never saw what the fuss was about. I don't suppose they have ale-"

Kate's glaring at Chloe. "You are going to drink tea. We are going to find tea that you like. There's a tea that's perfect for everyone. It's...one of the things I love about tea."

Chloe realises that her mouth is hanging open. "Okay," she says meekly. "Yay, tea?"

Kate animatedly takes over the ordering of food and drink while Chloe sinks into her chair and tries not to fall asleep.

* * *

She startles awake when the first of several trays are plonked down on their table. There's food enough for four: two bowls of stew, bread, butter, cheese, apples and a collection of dainty pastries. Chloe wrenches her attention from the food, starts to check the tables around them, only for Kate to smile and point discreetly at a table on the lower floor.

Chloe scans their surroundings quickly and sees two of their followers sitting at the table Kate pointed out, one bearded, the other with a shaved head.

They're respectably dressed, but still wearing their coats indoors. Hiding knives at the very least.

The other two must be waiting outside.

Kate starts pouring tea into a Chloe's cup and murmurs, "They're the only people who've come in after us. And I already paid the bill, in case we need to leave quickly. Here try this, I think you'll like it.

Chloe laughs and tries the tea. It's dark, smokey and savoury. She's never had anything quite like it before.

"It's kinda weird, but really good. Thanks, Kate. For everything. This is...perfect."

"My pleasure."

Kate's look of open delight is maybe the most dangerous thing Chloe's seen today. Luckily there's a heap of food to eat and questions to be asked.

Kate beats her to it, though. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What do you do, Chloe? When you're not rescuing people in distress, that is."

"Ha! Well, the rescuing business _does_ keep me pretty busy. But, the truth is...I'm no hero, like the Chosen in the stories. You need to understand that. I'm a thief, Kate. I steal from nobles like Lady Chase, or other rich assholes. It's...not really what I want, but...it's what I do. It's what I'm good at."

Kate looks thoughtful. "I see. I suppose you must...there can't have been many choices for you."

"Too much risk of exposure, trying to earn an honest living." She gulps down some tea and tries to choke down the bile that rises on repeating some of David's words.

"That's what I don't understand. Why...why didn't you tell anyone?" Kate bites her lip, fiddles with her tea cup, finally nails Chloe with a pleading look. "Why didn't you go to the priests?"

Chloe rubs the back of her neck, tries to marshal her thoughts. "The man who found me washed up on shore, a real paranoid charmer called David Madsen, changed my name and kept me hidden. I was fourteen, I had nowhere else to go, so I went along with it. When I got older...well, I still don't know what happened to me, Kate. One moment I'm on a ship with my dad, the next...I'm being told my dad's dead and the Gods spared me. I find I've got blue hair, and I can do things I never could before..."

Kate's gaping at her. "You have blue hair?"

Chloe shakes herself. She touches her bandana. "Uh, yeah. I have to keep it really short. Look, what I'm trying to say is...I haven't heard anything from the Gods. I don't have a clue about any 'destiny'. And...I mean, when I was older and could get around without David breathing down my neck, I went to temples. I talked to priests. None of them had anything useful to say. It wasn't long before I figured out a lot of them are in the pockets of the Prescotts, too. A lot of priests here just tell the good people of Arcadia whatever Godly message most suits Prescott interests."

Kate winces. "I've heard stories about corruption in the priesthood. It's different in Skald, for the most part. I know that the priesthood isn't what it was a century ago. When the Gods still spoke. But, Chloe, there are people out there, priests and nobles, who would help you. You're Hella's Chosen! We're all duty-bound to help you!"

"That's a nice sentiment, Kate. But did you hear what Victoria said to me? 'People like us.' The nobles are descendants of the Chosen, and if I am one of the Chosen, then..."

"Exactly! You could be the start of a new dynasty! Don't you want to take your rightful place-"

"You think the Prescotts, or any of the nobles, really want someone like me joining their esteemed ranks? You heard Wells and the Duke. You tell me, Kate. Did they sound like they wanted to open up a place for me among them?"

"No, but...there are many who would. You're...you're a miracle Chloe. You could give people so much hope and-"

"I'm not a miracle. And I won't call what's been done to me a miracle, either. Fuck that. No. Never."

They're quiet for a while, and Chloe focuses on wolfing down her food so she doesn't have to see the hurt in Kate's eyes.

"Well, maybe, when this is all done..."

Chloe looks up and Kate just looks...hopeful. She offers Chloe a gentle smile. "If you wanted, maybe I could help you...understand the Gods better. Understand yourself better. I'd like to try, anyway."

"Kate...you're best off having as little to do with me as possible. You should forget me altogether when 'this' is done. Whatever 'this' is. Probably time we went over that, right?

Now she really is hurt, but she just sips some tea and nods. "Alright. But...some of it's going to be difficult for you to hear."

"Well, waiting won't make it easier. Let's get to it."

Kate sucks in a breath, chews her lip for a moment. She leans forward and lowers her voice. "We think that...that is, the priesthood in Skald and Duchess Chase believe that...King Gregory was murdered. We think that sorcery was used to kill him and to scatter Kronus' essence, to leave Elysium without a ruler." She breaks off, looks down into her cup.

Chloe can feel her heart pounding, feel nausea swirling inside her. "What are you saying Kate?"

Kate fidgets, starts to reach out towards Chloe, stills herself. She looks Chloe in the eye. "The storm wasn't natural, Chloe. It was sorcery. Your father, the King...everybody else that day...they were all murdered."


	7. Nessa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's probably Friday somewhere, right?

She wakes up at her desk again.

Sleep rarely seems to find her in bed. She supposes she should be grateful that sleep still comes to her at all.

She pushes away from the desk, stands, stretches and groans. She checks the various tools of her trade. The writing on the scavenged pieces of parchment isn't smudged. The inkwell is closed and, while the quill needs sharpening, it's otherwise in fine shape. Even the candle, burned down to a stub, hasn't dripped wax on any of her work.

Something of a miracle.

She leans across the desk and pries open the shutter, wincing at the afternoon sunshine. She catches the scent of her armpit and winces again.

There's a ewer of fresh water, a wash basin, and soap, laid out on the nightstand. She doesn't like having slept through someone coming into her room this morning. She quickly scans the visible documents, relaxes a little when she sees that she left nothing incriminating out.

Still. She needs to be more careful. If Snorri catches her, or someone at the inn should get word to the Ducal guard...she knows the innkeeper isn't fond of having so many clansfolk in his establishment, no matter that their silver spends well enough. If she's caught with something other than letters and her notes on Northern clan laws, it'll likely be her death.

Which would, in truth, not be the worst thing that could happen.

A dull ache begins in her bones, pressure in her head. She groans. "I'm not going to do anything stupid." It helps to say it aloud sometimes.

She shambles over to the nightstand, strips off her blouse, trews and undergarments, tosses them all into the far corner.

She pours water into the basin and starts to wash herself.

There used to be a mirror on the nightstand, a little square of silvered steel. She hadn't seen many mirrors in the Northlands, and the first glimpse in this one was enough to convince her to avoid them as much as she can. It's banished under a pile of clothes in the bottom drawer of her dresser.

It's not like she doesn't know what she looks like. Pale, drawn face. Bloodshot eyes, with deep, dark circles underneath and not a hint of happiness within.

She doesn't seem to have much appetite, these days, but she's actually a little hungry. Breakfast or...lunch? Some sort of meal seems in order.

The sudden sound of raised voices downstairs makes it seem unlikely she'll get to eat soon.

It's coming from Snorri's meeting room and that means it can only be Glam. No one else would dare raise their voice to Snorri that way. And Glam wouldn't dare do it with Helgi in the room. But Helgi's at the amphitheatre, and Glam's a hothead and a bully and if she doesn't get down there soon, he'll insult Snorri. An insult is no small matter to the men of the Northlands. They have so much pride, so easily injured and all too readily avenged.

Time was Chieftain Snorri could talk rings around a thug like Glam, but age has stiffened his muscles and his pride in equal proportions.

There's a series of thuds on the stairs and she feels a flicker of annoyance as she finishes washing. That will likely be Bersi, Snorri's youngest son, sent to fetch her. And he still hasn't learned how to knock...

He bursts into the room, begins to say, "Nessa-", then chokes at the sight of her. He whirls around to face the other way. "I'm so sorry, Volva! I didn't-"

She grabs some clothes from a drawer, starts to pull them on. "Bersi. Just call me Nessa. I am not a witch or a sorcerer. And don't come into people's rooms uninvited. That isn't the Elysian way."

They've only been in Arcadia a month, and the boy is still adjusting. Boy? He's nearly sixteen winters now, and that's a man grown, in the Northlands. He was only twelve the first time she met him.

It's not entirely his fault. Privacy is rarely an option in the longhouses of the Northern clans, at least by Elyisan standards. All the people of a household have to live and sleep in one large room, after all.

"Sorry, Vol...uh, Nessa. It's an emergency, though-"

"Glam is here, with eight warriors and he wants the balance of the settlement agreed at this summer's Thing. Snorri's in a foul mood and doesn't want to give him a clipped silver mark, but there's only three... no, five? Five of Snorri's men in the inn."

Bersi turns to gape at her, then red, then away again. "How did you-"

"I've got ears, eyes and a brain, Bersi. That's all." She feels an increase in the pressure in her skull. She grits her teeth. "And the settlement was bound by the Lawspeaker, so Snorri will have to pay, like it or not."

The pressure eases a little, but not enough. She'll have to sneak out again tonight, do the only thing that seems to help when it gets really bad.

"I'll be down in a minute, Bersi. Don't wait for me. Try to keep them from each other's throats until I get there. Wait! Why are there five men? Helgi and Ulfar should still be at the amphitheatre..."

Bersi hesitates, back still turned, while she forces her arms into the sleeves of a nearly fresh blouse.

"Helgi is down there with them. He was talking to father when Glam arrived. He's...wounded. Helgi, I mean."

She freezes. If Helgi is back this early... "How bad are his wounds?"

Bersi's voice trembles a little. "He'll be fine."

She begins to mutter curses as she fumbles with her buttons and jams her feet into her shoes. "You let Glam in to see them when Helgi's that badly hurt? Bersi! Go to the taproom and buy Glam's men wine. By the tankard, Bersi. Tell them Elysians gulp it down like ale and don't let them see the bottom of their cups. I'll deal with Glam."

"Yes, Volva!" She sighs as Bersi races off without another word. She pauses to snatch a piece of parchment from her desk. She quickly folds it up, tucks it into the pouch on her belt. She forces herself to walk downstairs.

* * *

She knocks before entering the private room where Snorri conducts business.

The angry voices on the other side of the door fall silent. Snorri rasps: "Come."

She opens the door and steps into an atmosphere of barely restrained violence. This sort of thing used to scare her, but she's gotten all too used to these kinds of encounters.

Snorri and Glam sit across from each other on opposite sides of a round table.

Snorri's a lean man, greying and sitting stiffly upright with both hands flat on the table. His face is a map of valleys and canyons and for all his stillness, she can read the anger on it.

Glam's tall, heavily built. She'd guess he's twenty years Snorri's junior, in spite of the grey in his own long, braided hair. He's sprawled on his chair, his feet on the table and a lazy grin on his lips. His eyes are chips of flint.

Helgi is the first to speak. He's lying on a couch, his left leg stretched out over the armrest. "Greetings, sister."

He means well. And she prefers 'sister' to 'Volva', and either to 'thrall'. But none of these words define her.

"Helgi. Still lazing around at this time of day?"

He starts to laugh, grimaces and touches his chest. "Well, I have nothing pressing to see to at the moment."

Glam snorts, "So this skinny little wretch is the witch who's holding your balls for you, Snorri?"

Snorri carefully does nothing. Helgi tries to struggle upright, though, tries to draw breath to reply.

That won't do.

She produces the folded parchment from her belt pouch and speaks in the measured tones she learned from Ref, the Lawspeaker. "Glam, son of Ingolf, son of Gisli, son of Vigfus. I bear a letter from the Lawspeaker with instructions for Snorri the Chieftain in the handling of this case. Will you hear his words or continue to spend your own unwisely?"

As she speaks, Helgi reluctantly sinks back onto the couch. Snorri remains as immobile as if he were carved from granite.

Glam glares at her for a moment. Abruptly, he laughs. "At least she makes good use of them. Read the fucking letter, Snorri. Let's be done with this."

This part's a gamble. Snorri's more than sharp enough to understand what she's attempting, but Glam's pushed him hard. Snorri's temper will decide life and death in the next moment.

She passes him the parchment on which is written nothing more than a list of supplies they need. Snorri stares at it. He turns and stares at her. There's a long, long second where she's not at all sure what he'll say. He gives her a tight little smile and passes the list back to her. "My eyes aren't what they were. You read it, thrall."

It's not the word for slave that bothers her, though perhaps it should sting. She's been free for three months now. She's mingled blood with Helgi, can rightly call him brother, though she seldom does. She has the trust of Ref the Lawspeaker. She is one of only ten in the whole of the Northlands who can recite every law of every clan, who knows how to render judgement. Snorri knows all this.

Perhaps 'thrall' should hurt. Or 'witch'. Or 'sister', for that matter. But she's past caring about such things. Her worry is Snorri's pettiness in trying to wound her, and much worse, that he should go as wide of the mark as Glam did.

She inclines her head, lets Snorri take from that what he will, and pretends to read from her shopping list.

"Regarding Glam Ingolfsson, who prosecutes the killing of his brother by Grim-"

Glam grunts. "You can skip all that. We all know why I'm here. I'll have my money, Snorri. Or I'll have your murdering cousin's head."

"Perhaps I'd better read the whole letter, since you seem to forget that Grim is not a murderer. He declared the killing in a lawful manner."

Glam takes his feet off the table, plants them firmly on the floor. He makes no move to stand, but he's that much closer to lashing out now. "Perhaps you'd better get to the fucking point, witch. Before I take what I'm owed-"

Snorri laughs his rasping laugh and Glam's eyes dart nervously towards him. "You're brave enough when you find my son wounded and most of my men elsewhere. But we both know what happens if you try force on me. Even if you survive the attempt, you'll be outlawed. You'll find no welcome in the Northlands ever again. If you think that's worth the risk, draw your knife. Otherwise, still your tongue until she's finished."

Glam looks rattled, now. Still, one misstep will have him pulling that knife, no matter the consequences.

"The relevant part is this: Double compensation was awarded. 400 marks have been paid, one full wergild. The balance is not due until the summer. However, in light of Snorri's journey to Elysium to take part in negotiations affecting the future of the clans, Glam can claim the balance early. But 100 marks will be deducted for every season short of the agreed time."

She looks up from the imaginary letter, sees the two men at the table locked in a staring contest. "By the Lawspeaker's decree, Snorri must pay 200 marks to Glam. Helgi? Did you bring Glam's money, as your father commanded?"

All three men turn to stare at her. Glam's cold eyes are suspicious, but she can see the greed winning out. 200 marks is better than an uncertain fight and certain exile. Snorri's surprise is hidden well enough that Glam won't see it, but it's there. It's Helgi who threatens the whole charade, gawping at her in disbelief.

She crosses over to the couch, briefly turning her back on Glam so that she can give Helgi a glare. "Brother? The money?"

He's a good enough man and a fine fighter, but has little of his father's cunning. "Oh! Yes. I have it right here..."

He reluctantly hands her a heavy pouch and she returns to the table and pours out a torrent of Elysian silver. She quickly counts out 200 marks, the bulk of the pouch's contents, and pushes the stack of coins into the middle of the table.

Glam grins and reaches for the coins. Snorri flicks a glance at her and she gives a tiny nod. She says: "Now there's the matter of compensation to Snorri."

Glam's hand creeps back towards his belt. "What are you talking about?"

She leans on the table, thrusts her face towards his. "You insulted Snorri in his residence in front of witnesses. That insult gives grounds for a violent response. If you pay appropriate compensation, though, the matter can be resolved here."

"You're mad, witch. You've gouged 200 marks from what I'm owed. That's compensation enough."

She leans in closer still, staring him down. Lowers her voice to a whisper. "You know Snorri can't leave the insult unanswered. What you don't know is that your men are drunk out of their tiny minds by now. They aren't coming to help you." She sees the flash of fear in his eyes and straightens up. She raises her voice. "Choose how you'll pay the price. Silver or feud."

She's indifferent to Glam's mute hatred, but pleased to see the sweat forming on his brow. It means this farce is almost over. She steps back from the table, lets Snorri take charge.

He examines Glam for a moment. He smiles gently. "Grief for your brother clouded your mind. I will take 50 marks as compensation, and the incident will not be spoken of again."

Glam's jaw works and his hands bunch up into fists but at last he just nods. He counts off the money and pushes it towards Snorri.

He gasps when the point of Snorri's knife slams into the tabletop within an inch of his outstretched hand. "Not one word of that insult will be repeated, Glam. Or I'll have _your_ balls."

Glam nods rapidly, scoops up his silver and backs towards the door. He glares at all of them once more before fleeing.

Snorri pries his knife out of the wood with some difficulty. He stands up slowly and sheathes his knife. He looks at her for a moment. "That was well done."

That surprises her so much she almost smiles. "Just doing what I had to."

Snorri grunts and shakes his head. Helgi, though, is staring at her with the same sort of look she catches on Bersi's face when he thinks she's working magic. He laughs. "How...uh, how did you know I had the money to pay Glam?"

"Helgi. If you had won at the Proving, you would have become Lady Chase's bodyguard. You wouldn't let your wounds get in the way of your duty. You'd be with her, not back here. You may not have gotten the top prize, but you're too skilled to come away empty-handed, so..."

He sounds disappointed. "You just...guessed?"

She sighs. "Yes, Helgi. I guessed."

Snorri grunts. "Enough. We've more important things to discuss."

Like how they're going to get close to the Prescotts now that Helgi has failed.

* * *

The war council takes place an hour later. It's time enough for Snorri to ensure that Glam and his men are gone and that most of Snorri's warriors are back from their errands round the city. It's time enough for Ulfar to go to the apothecary, and to return with herbs and poultices for Helgi. And a vial of headache cure for her, something she tucks into her pouch for later. Ms. Grant is a good apothecary, a better information trader and an excellent woman. If it wasn't for her apprentice, she'd seek excuses to visit more often.

It's just the four of them at the table. Snorri, Helgi, Bersi and...her. Helgi's had his wounds examined and freshly dressed and is propped up on the couch again. They've moved the table nearer to the couch to accomodate him. Bersi's new to this sort of talk, but he's old enough, now, and with Helgi hurt...she can see the sense in Snorri including him. 

There's food, too: bread, meat and ale enough to content the men, fresh fish and spiced lentils, a nod to Arcadian cuisine.

She helps herself to a healthy portion of fish. There's a long night ahead.

They eat quietly, quickly, until Snorri grunts and turns to Bersi.

"Son. Why did we come to Arcadia?"

He shifts nervously in his seat, flicks her an anxious glance. She nods, the barest inclination of her head. "We...we came because Elysium is going to war with itself? And Duke Prescott wants the best warriors he can get so that he can win it."

Snorri's expression doesn't change much, just enough for his disapproval to wilt Bersi. " _All_ the Dukes and Duchesses of Elysium have been making their overtures to the clans for months. There are chieftains aplenty who would come here just to spill Elysian blood. But that we _must_ avoid. The strength of the clans has been bled too much already. So. Why are we here, Bersi?"

Bersi shoots her another glance and she crooks her fingers into the rune for 'sea'. Bersi's eyes widen. He quickly looks away. "Because...Duke Prescott promised to support the clans forming new colonies in the unexplored lands."

Snorri slowly nods. "Ships. Tools. Supplies. And the right to claim some of the land the Elysians have been so greedy for. A tempting offer." He tips his head, boring his eyes into Bersi. "Why are _we_ here?"

"Because...an offer is only as good as the man who makes it. We...we need to test the Duke, see if he's a man of honour."

Snorri's lips twitch. "Elysians have no honour, Bersi." Snorri glances coolly at her. "None of them."

She lowers her eyes, mostly so that Snorri can't see her rolling them.

"But...why-?"

"Because he makes the best offer. Because if we can reach an agreement, we could unite the clans and build a future for our people. Because if we don't, and we let each chieftain ally with a different Duke or Duchess, we'll destroy ourselves. Duke Prescott is not a man of honour, no. But we can still make a deal. If we know his purpose, if we learn his nature, we can make a deal that suits _us_." He turns his gaze on Helgi. "Speak."

Helgi grimaces and sits upright. "If I'd won at the amphitheatre today, I would have become bodyguard to Lady Victoria Chase. She's soon to marry the Prescott heir. It would have given me access to the family, a chance to sift their words and deeds, find the truth of them."

Or report them to Snorri, so that he can do the sifting.

Bersi's eyes widen. "Oh! But...you lost, so...how did you lose?"

"A Mermedonian got me when I was distracted. I have my limits, brother." He grows sombre. "It would not have been my day, anyway. There was a _berserk_ there. She saved me, but...if we'd fought...I would have been beaten."

She barely controls her astonishment better than Bersi. "You were saved by a _berserk_?"

Helgi nods solemnly. "Be glad you did not see her in her wrath. I am glad I did not fight her."

Snorri raps his knuckles on the table and they all fall silent. "Helgi has failed. We need another way of getting information." He stares at them all in turn. "Well?"

Bersi frowns. "Perhaps we could get someone into the guard?"

Snorri shakes his head. "We already have. It's useful, but not enough by itself."

She looks at Helgi. He scowls. "No."

She shrugs. "What choice do we have?"

Snorri's face darkens. "What is this? Secret plans?"

Helgi snorts. "A stupid scheme. I didn't mention it because, well-"

She says, "Blackwell."

Snorri sits back, stroking his beard. "What is it you call it? A house for scribes. No, a...scriptorium?"

She nods. "Not just a place where scribes work. _The_ place where they work for the Magistrate. Where every official document is drafted, copied and stored. Quite a few unofficial ones, too. If you want to understand the Prescotts? How they make deals? It's all there."

"You want to...break in?"

She lets him see her eye roll this time. "Yes. Just grab a handful of papers and torch the place on the way out."

"Careful." But there's a hint of a smile on his lips.

"I can get in. I'm Elysian. I'm a scribe. And once I'm in, I can...sift quite thoroughly, I'm sure."

This time Snorri really does smile. His eyes make liars of his lips. "We must seek to find the want behind the words."

She says nothing to that.

Helgi curses. "How will you get in? Hm? They'll take you in off the street? You don't dress or sound Elysian anymore, because you aren't. You are a Northlander. It's too dangerous, besides!"

Snorri grunts. "Hush, boy. How will you get in?"

This is it. This is much more dangerous than facing down Glam. She keeps her hands under the table so no one can see them shake. "The apothecary sells more than herbs and potions. She trades in information and...introductions." Carefully she pulls the vial from her pouch. She opens it and produces a small roll of vellum, which she shows to the others. "She's put me in contact with a local woman. Someone who can...arrange things. With her help, I'm sure I can get in. And if I fail, or get caught?" She stares Snorri in the eye. "I'm Elysian. Not a Northlander. It won't lead back to you."

Bersi's gaping at her, but Helgi only needs a single look to see she means it. He turns to Snorri. "Father, if they think she's a spy or a thief, they'll kill her. You cannot allow this!"

It's the wrong thing to say, of course. "I cannot? Am I not chieftain? Whatever your delusions, boy, she is not your sister. She is not of the clan. I will use her as _I_ see fit." He doesn't take his eyes off her or raise his voice.

She hasn't broken eye contact with Snorri, either. She puts a hand on Helgi's shoulder as he tries to push himself to his feet. He subsides, unwillingly. "Then use me, chieftain. Where I can do the most good."

And where she can learn the answer to the question that's burned in her mind all these years.

Snorri nods once. "Do what must be done. And do not fail."

She smiles grimly. "I'll start tonight."

Snorri shakes his head. "Tomorrow. And Ulfar will be your shadow."

It's a strange thing, Snorri's suspicion. He's right not to fully trust her, because she feels no loyalty to the man. Or to his family, whatever fondness she feels for them.

But she's not lying when she says that she'll do what she can for the Northern clans. It's not a matter of blood shared but of blood that need not be shed.

She tries not to wince when the pressure increases in her skull and the headache flares. She shrugs. Lies. "As you say."

* * *

She waits for darkness to fall and claims, honestly, a desire for sleep. Not that sleep will come for hours yet. But the men have drinking to do and breath to waste in pointless arguments. She won't be missed.

Of course, she didn't tell Snorri everything. Like the name of the woman she's meeting: Rachel Amber. Or the fact that Rachel reached out to her, requesting her services in providing certain illegal papers. Or that she's been engaged in that business for years; an occasional habit in the Northlands now become a fast-growing business in Arcadia.

Something she might avoid altogether, if there were a better way to ease the pressure in her skull.

She goes back to her room and gathers the things she'll need into a leather bag. There's the battered portable writing set that Ref gave her: an oak box that holds quills and various bottles of ink and unfolds into a little desk.

Next is a bone and leather tube she keeps hidden at the bottom of a drawer. She keeps different grades of vellum in it, though she's running low on the kind they prefer to use at Blackwell. Maybe Rachel Amber can help her resupply.

She has three small knives, one for sharpening quills, one for trimming vellum and the third for wood carving. All three are very sharp and tucked into leather sheaths. Gifts from Helgi.

She has a small cloth bag of old sling bullets that she helped Bersi scavenge from a field back when they could both be called children. He had shyly given her the bag with the cleaned lumps of lead the next day, her share of the spoils. She uses them as paperweights.

Last is another little box which holds sticks of wax and several wooden stamps.

Everything she needs to create any sort of document a person might desire.

She puts on her cloak and slings her bag over her shoulder. She douses the candle. She waits and listens at the door. When she's sure there's no one stirring, she slips out and pads down the stairs.

Snorri and his men are making so much noise in the taproom that stealth seems superfluous. She's still quiet on her way out the back door. Still checks carefully to make sure there's no one following before she starts walking towards her true destination.

Two streets away from the inn and she feels...not free, never that. But she can pretend that she's nothing more or less than a young woman exploring an unfamiliar city. She feels a sudden piercing ache, a longing to be just that, and she has to stop for a minute to compose herself.

It isn't far to the _Two Whales_ , where she'll meet this Rachel Amber. She knows what the request will be already. Travel papers. Everyone knows that war is coming and a lot of people are looking to make sure they're able to run when the time comes.

She avoids the front door, skulks down the alley instead and knocks softly on the window with a candle burning on the sill. Moments later the shutters open and she's scrambling awkwardly through the window.

Rachel Amber, it turns out, is young and remarkably beautiful. She almost laughs at the twinge of self-consciousness she feels in the other woman's presence. Beauty's a luxury she's never had to endure.

She puts her bag on the table in the middle of the room and takes a seat. She needs a moment to catch her breath. She watches Rachel close the window and shutters before she joins her at the table.

Rachel's first words, spoken in warm, smooth tones, startle her. "You're a lot younger than I expected." There's laughter in her voice, but no hint of mockery. "Much prettier, too."

Her own reply comes out much harsher than she intends. "You don't need to flatter me. Just tell me what you want."

Rachel purses her lips, hazel eyes thoughtful. "Maybe it was inappropriate, but it's _not_ flattery. What do I call you?"

She finds herself reluctant to say it. "Nessa."

"Hmm. You don't look like a Nessa." She expects Rachel to take a seat across the table from her. But Rachel pulls out a chair and places it close to her, on the same side of the table. As she turns in her chair to face Rachel, Rachel scoots forward so that their knees are touching.

"There. Now we can talk comfortably. As to my needs, well. Two sets of travel papers. One set for me, one for a friend. I can give you all her details. I might have other... _wants_ you can help me with. But we should deal with the papers first."

Rachel's smile is as warm and her features as soft as Snorri's are not. And yet...there's a similar quality they share. Snorri is always alert and waiting to pounce on a mistake. Rachel's flirtatiousness invites you to make them.

She's unused to this sort of attention. She feels worryingly out of her depth.

She coughs, tries to focus on the work she's here to do. "I'll have to meet your friend. That's non-negotiable."

"I'm not so sure I want to share you." Rachel laughs. "Why? Surely that just increases the risk for everyone."

"I need to see who I'm dealing with."

"And you're such a good judge of character that you can, what? Look someone in the eye and know all their secrets?" Rachel leans forward. Her eyes are wide and glimmer in the candlelight. She smells like vanilla. "Hm. Tell me about my secrets."

She shouldn't let herself be goaded like this, but...the challenge is appealing. She mirrors Rachel's posture. Locks eyes with her and feels the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "You're very beautiful. And very clever."

Rachel laughs and preens. "Now who's the flatterer? But that's hardly revealing of my innermost secrets."

She wonders how wise this game is. She learns that she's tired of trying to be wise. "You're lonely."

There's a tiny flash of shock, maybe a hint of anger in her eyes, quickly gone. Rachel's voice stays smooth. "That's a guess. And a boring one, too."

"Maybe. But look at where we are and why we're here. You've worked to build a position in the underworld as a fixer. A good one. That takes intelligence, strength and will. Especially for a woman as young as you. I think most people are blinded by your looks, but beauty and charm are just tools you use. They don't define you. I wonder how many people see you and think to look for anything deeper? And I doubt that you'd let someone who couldn't see past the obvious get close to you. It's understandable, but it's a lonely way to live. So..."

Rachel isn't frowning, but there's an edge under the honeyed lilt of her voice. "Sounds to me like you're speaking from experience."

She keeps her expression deadpan. "Well, I suppose we must have similar problems. As you can tell, I am very charming."

Rachel abruptly snorts. She starts to giggle, poise dissolving in mirth.

She decides in that moment that she likes Rachel Amber.

Rachel shakes her head. "I suppose I asked for that." Rachel leans forward again, intently studying her face.

She finds herself blushing and tries not to fidget.

A slow, dangerous smile appears on Rachel's lips. "Oh, my, you are intriguing, aren't you?"

She laughs nervously. "I'm just a scribe. Not intriguing at all."

"If you're trying to make me less interested in you, you're doing a very bad job. But." She tucks a sheaf of golden hair behind her ear, fiddles with an earring. Rachel looks at her earnestly. "The only question that matters right now is: Will you work with me?"

She finds her first full smile of the...week? Month? "I will." She hesitates, reluctant to bring anything of the Northlands into this conversation. "I need help with another matter, though. I...want a job at Blackwell. Is that something you could...?"

Rachel's eyes narrow slightly. "That's an odd request. If I say no, I take it I won't get my papers?"

She curses her mistake. "What? Oh, no. This is a separate matter. I can draw your papers up tonight, your friend's after I've met them." 

Rachel nods slowly. "It'll be difficult, but I can arrange anything. For a price."

"How much would you require?"

"Well, I'll have to make some inquiries. Feel out the best approach. We can discuss price when I know all the details." She grins wickedly. "And those sorts of details can't be written down. We'll just have to meet again to discuss them, I'm afraid. Perhaps over dinner tomorrow?"

She hasn't felt so out of her depth in years. Not since the Lawspeaker took her in. She knows this is just another game, but it's not one she's had any practice with. She shakes her head, finds another smile of her own. "Would you be able to manage tomorrow afternoon, instead?"

Rachel pouts. "I could get you to myself at dinner...but, alright. I'll see if I can scare up Ms. Madsen, too. Your other prospective client. If you don't mind mixing our business?"

"I don't mind."

"Will you deliver my papers tomorrow, then?"

She decides to make one of the mistakes that Rachel is inviting her to make. "I could get them to you tonight. Do you mind if I work here? It might take a couple of hours."

Rachel's smile is dizzying. "That sounds...delightful. Can I get you something to eat or drink?"

She begins to unpack her tools. "Do you have tea?"

"Of course! I'll have a pot brought in."

Tea was rare in the Northlands, more often bartered than drunk. She hasn't had tea in almost five years. Memories long since pushed into the deepest recesses of her mind begin to stir. She manages to keep her hands steady and hopes there's nothing showing on her face.

If something does, Rachel doesn't remark on it. She stands up and crosses to the heavy door beyond which lies the rest of the tavern. Rachel pauses, watching as she sets her tools in place and folds her writing set. "This is exciting! I've never seen a master forger at work before.

She unrolls a sheet of vellum, lays it on her writing desk, smooth side up. She weighs the corners down with pieces of lead. Selects a quill and just the right shade of ink. She looks Rachel in the eye.

"I don't make forgeries."

She dips her quill in the ink, and begins to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had way too much fun writing this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> If you'd like to criticise, speculate, ruminate or just yell at me, please do leave a comment!
> 
> And I will see you Friday the 10th!


	8. Chased

Kate limps through the hallways of the Ducal Palace, hood of her stolen cloak up and head down. She did the best she could to make herself presentable, but her dress is torn and there's mud on her legs and her hair is _wild_ and there's a few bruises visible on her arms...yet other than a few stares, no one challenges her.

After minutes that seem to stretch out into hours, she's in front of the door to the suite that's been given over to Victoria. She takes a few deep breaths. She knocks softly on the door.

Kate tries not to worry about Chloe as another minute plods past before the door is yanked open. Victoria scowls down at her, formidable even in a silk nightgown. "What now? I'm about to... _Kate_?"

Victoria doesn't waste any more breath, she grabs Kate's cloak and yanks her into the suite, slamming and bolting the door behind them.

"Where have you been? Why didn't you use the carriage? Kate...?"

Kate knows that she risks provoking Victoria's temper further, but there's something she has to do before anything else, so she makes her way into the parlour. It's dimly lit, just a couple of candles and a low banked fire. She tosses the cloak onto a chair and crosses to the large bay window. She gets the shutter open, then the window, grateful that it swings open vertically. She inhales a deep lungful of cool night air. Victoria grabs her arm and spins her round.

Victoria's voice scales quickly from anger, to shock, to concern. "Kate, what the fuck are you...what _happened_ to you?"

"I'm sorry, Lady Chase, I had to...uh..." Kate feels a sudden tremor run through her body and her legs abruptly give way.

Victoria catches Kate and guides her over to a couch. Kate collapses gratefully onto it. She loses track of things until Victoria presses a goblet into her hand. "Here. Drink this."

Victoria helps guide the goblet to her lips, and she gasps and almost chokes as she swallows a liquid that burns fiercely on the way down her throat.

"What-?"

"Brandy. Shh. Drink up. You're in shock."

Victoria isn't good at being soothing. But she's obviously worried, and she's _trying_. That and the warmth the brandy puts into her helps Kate come back to herself a little. She sits up urgently. "I need to-"

"You need to shut up and drink." Victoria strides away, but she's back in a moment with a blanket which she awkwardly wraps around Kate. She goes to the fire and busies herself with logs and a poker until there's a blaze going.

"Well, it looks like you've had a rough night. But, frankly, I've had a real shit of a day, and I outrank you. So I'm going first."

Kate settles the blanket round her, sips a little more brandy, and tries to stop shaking.

"The rest of the Proving went about as well as you'd expect. I've spent my whole life learning how to deal with other nobles. How to look for weaknesses, exploit them mercilessly, keep myself ahead and others down. I'm good at it. Sean Prescott's much better at that game than me, and sharing a box with him for three hours after explaining that I'd defied his will and bound Chloe to my service...it really fucking sucked, Kate!"

Victoria tosses the poker down and turns away from the fire. She grabs the bottle of brandy and another cup, filling it with several inches of fluid. She knocks it back in a single swallow. She grimaces and refills her cup.

She strides over to Kate and tilts the bottle over her goblet. Kate's surprised to discover she's drunk all her brandy already, but in spite of the pleasant lassitude stealing over her, she shakes her head. "No, thank you. I think I've had enough."

"You're wrong. And you're from Skald, so you should fucking well know that you _never_ refuse a Chase." She starts pouring and it's either hold up the goblet and let Victoria have her way or have brandy spilled all over her.

Kate makes another effort to stir herself. "My lady, I-"

Victoria takes another gulp of brandy and shakes her head. "I'm not done." She shivers suddenly, and glares at the window. "Hang on."

She strides over and pushes the window shut. She picks up a candle and places it on the end table next to Kate before dropping onto the couch next to her. "Do you know what was worse than the Duke's sniping?"

Kate shakes her head.

"Well, Nathan didn't show up until dinner. He looked at me, once, like he was surprised to see me. He ignored me after that. Just spent half an hour arguing with his father. I tried to find him after dinner, to talk...but he went out again, apparently."

Victoria stares pensively into the fire. "We were so close when we were younger. Our families used to visit each other, or arrange to travel together, a few times a year. Nathan and I used to write to each other all the time, but...he stopped writing back a year ago. This is the first time I've been allowed to leave Skald since the king died. In spite of everything, I was looking forward to seeing him."

Victoria takes another unhealthy swig of brandy. "He barely even _looks_ at me, now, and I'm supposed to marry him in four days?" She drains her glass. "If I don't implicate his father in treason first, of course!" 

"Victoria..."

"That's still not the worst part! It wasn't Wells getting so drunk at the Proving he had to be carried out. Or the fact that out of the whole bunch of Arcadian nobles at dinner, the only halfway decent conversation I had was with High Priest Jefferson. No. It was the Duchess. She's always sniffing at _everything_ I say! She sniffs so much I almost screamed, 'Just blow your fucking nose!' I'm going to have to live with her for Kronus knows how long. Unless we succeed in our mission, and then either the Prescott line will be finished, or I might get to spend the rest of my very short life locked in a fucking cage as their hostage. If we fail...it's just the whole country that gets torn apart!"

Kate reaches over and takes Victoria's hand. She squeezes gently. "It won't come to that. You must have faith, Victoria."

Victoria stares at her, unshed tears glimmering in the firelight. "Right. Sure." She begins to squeeze back, but abruptly snatches her hand away. "Anyway. Wait here for a minute, and don't fall asleep."

The first part of that order is much easier to obey than the second, but as the nervous energy that carried Kate this far dissipates, even the brandy can't disguise the number of aches and pains clamouring to make themselves known across her body.

Still, her eyes are getting heavy when Victoria returns. She's carrying a basin, a pitcher of water, cloths, bandages, a tub of ointment and another nightgown.

"Come on, Kate. Let's have a look at you."

Kate reluctantly sheds her dress, hissing sharply as she discovers a long, shallow cut on her back.

Victoria pours water into the basin, wets a cloth, and begins to wash the dirt and blood from her body. Her hands are steady and, though they're rough with calluses from sword drill, they're surprisingly gentle.

Until she finds the bruises Chloe left on Kate's right forearm.

Her grip tightens and she drags Kate's arm into the pool of radiance the candle emits. Her voice is thick with brandy and emotion. "Kate. Now would be the time to tell me everything from the beginning, before I entirely lose my fucking mind!"

So Kate tells her about leaving the amphitheatre, about being followed to the tea house and telling Chloe about the sorcery behind the storm. As she talks, she closes her eyes and sinks into the memories. She stops thinking about what to say, and lets it all flood out of her.

* * *

Chloe takes learning about the storm better than Kate expected. She grips the edges of the table, her face pale, and grates out a single word. "Who?"

"We don't know. But it's one of the things we have to discover, if we're going to find out what happened to the king's essence."

Chloe nods vaguely, but her eyes are staring somewhere else. Somewhere years ago.

Kate decides to give her some time. She turns away and peeks over the balcony in time to see the doors of the tea house open.

She watches men file into the room. There's at least a dozen of them, all dressed...oddly. Kate can't quite put her finger on it, but something about them nags at her. Maybe it's that they're all wearing coats or cloaks, even on a warm afternoon.

Sartorial concerns quickly vanish when she sees the two men who were following them get up and greet the newcomers. They briefly converse, ignoring an agitated waiter. Fourteen pairs of eyes turn to look up. Right at Kate.

She tries not to panic. "Chloe! Chloe, we're in trouble!"

Chloe's eyes refocus. She looks down as the men below start moving. "Hella! They're making a grab! Move, Kate!"

Kate jumps out of her seat, looks back down and blanches. Four of the men have stationed themselves at the front door. The rest, led by the bearded man who followed them here, are making their way up the stairs.

Chloe stands up, still gripping the edges of the laden table. With a grunt she lifts the table up. She heaves it forcefully over the balcony. The table crashes into the stairwell, sending crockery, chunks of wood and several of the rough looking men tumbling.

There's one or two who look like they won't be getting back up in a hurry and a clump of them are slowed down by the debris and the bodies of their friends. But the three in the lead are rushing up the stairs now, and _all_ of the men still upright are reaching inside their coats or cloaks and pulling out hatchets, knives, clubs.

Chloe grabs her coat and takes Kate's hand. "Follow me, Kate!" Chloe shoves shrieking people out of their way as she leads them towards the rear corner of the upper floor. Towards a large window...

Kate baulks, loses her grip on Chloe. "What are you doing?!"

Chloe turns back to her, curses and suddenly yanks her forward and into her arms. Chloe holds Kate close, dives back, taking them both to the floor, as a hatchet hisses through the air and buries itself into the window frame.

Kate lies panting in Chloe's arms. She hears a hoarse voice yell, "He wants them alive! Just grab them!"

Chloe's face is inches from Kate's. Her fear and confusion are plain to see. Then Chloe's attention focuses on Kate. A fire ignites in her eyes, sweeping everything else away. Her voice is firm and confident. "Kate, break the window." She pushes Kate off her, and springs to her feet.

Kate gulps. She crawls quickly towards the window. She scrambles to her feet, grabs the nearest chair and heaves it against the glass, flinching as the window breaks and the chair sails through and crashes and clatters down to the alley below. She looks back, yells, "Chloe, come on!"

A pair of them are trying to get at Chloe, but she's positioned herself between two tables, forcing them to come at her one at a time. They hesitate.

Chloe doesn't.

She scoops up a teapot and hurls it at the man on the left, hitting him in the face. He cries out and staggers back, dropping his knife.

The other man raises his club and charges forward, screaming. Chloe meets him head on. She throws up her left arm, catching his club on her forearm and bicep. Her right hand locks around his right wrist and she pulls, twisting at the hips, yanking his arm straight out. As his body is dragged forward and down, she brings her left knee up to meet his jaw. His head snaps back, and Chloe shoves him back in the direction of their pursuers.

The bearded man snarls in rage, but hangs back. Behind him, more men are trying to get onto the balcony, but they're fighting against a tide of panicking people who are trying to get down the stairs and get _out_.

Chloe scoops up her fallen coat and quickly slips it on. She starts running towards Kate. Kate gasps in horror as she realises that Chloe's headed straight for her, and the window right behind her, and she's _speeding up_.

Chloe launches herself at Kate, wraps her arms around her and pulls her tight into her chest. She twists in mid-air so her back's to the window, tucks her head so her cheek's pressed against the top of Kate's head. Kate screams as they tumble through the window and fall...

Chloe hits the ground with Kate on top of her. Their impact is softer than Kate expected, accompanied by more of a squelch than a thud. Kate's not screaming, now, mostly because she doesn't have any breath left. She opens her eyes and looks dazedly around her.

They're in an alley beside the tea house, near a side door and they've landed on...tea. Sacks of used tea leaves, evidently dumped outside the kitchen.

Chloe groans, and Kate quickly lifts herself off of her. She crawls over the sacks and gets back to her feet on the packed dirt of the alley floor. She looks up and sees the bearded man poking his head out of the window. He glares at her with such vitriolic hate that she takes a shaky step back. He ducks inside the building, yelling orders. She looks around and groans when she sees two more men appear at the far end of the alley.

Chloe heaves herself to her feet, and staggers over to Kate. She's seizes her hand and they begin running again.

Chloe suddenly lets out a hiccup of laughter. "You were right! I think I found the tea that's perfect for me!"

Kate doesn't have the breath to laugh, but in spite of everything, there's a wild grin on her lips.

They burst out onto a winding street and Chloe leads them halfway down it before turning right into another alley. They rush through it, hopping over refuse considerably worse than used tea, and race out onto a broad paved street. The light's rapidly vanishing as the sun sinks, but there's still people, ordinary citizens, going about their business in a calm fashion. They slow to a walk. Chloe keeps a tight grip on her hand as they cross the street.

Kate's lungs are burning and her heart is straining and she's not sure how much more running she can manage. But as Chloe steers her towards another alley, everything's so peaceful that Kate dares to hope that they've left their pursuers behind.

They hear the shriek of a whistle behind them.

They hear an answering whistle from one street over.

Chloe snarls, "Fuck! How many of them are there?"

Kate has time for one deep breath before Chloe drags her down another alley. They're less than halfway through it when four lean men, dressed in heavy clothes, much like the others, appear at the far end of the alley.

One of them has a silver whistle in his hand and blows two short blasts at the sight of them. Behind them, another whistle answers. Close. Too close.

The man in the lead of this group is wearing a grey cap and carrying a truncheon. He points it at them and growls, "Come quietly, or we'll hurt you."

Chloe lets go of Kate's hand, whispers, "Stay behind me." She holds her arms up and walks slowly towards them, Kate trailing her a few paces back. "Okay, you've got us. But you don't need both of us, right? Take her, and let me go. I can put a lot of silver in your pockets if you do..."

Grey Cap grins and peers over Chloe's shoulder at Kate. "Your friend's a nice one, isn't she?" His voice tightens with anger. "You think I'm doing this for _money_?" He pokes Chloe in the chest with his truncheon. "We've to take you both. Get on your knees, both of you."

Kate obeys, heart pounding, but feeling oddly unafraid. She knows Chloe isn't going to betray her, knows it with the same bedrock certainty that though Aram is silent, She works her justice and mercy on the world to this day.

Chloe slowly drops to one knee. Her shoulders tremble and she starts to sniffle. "Oh, Gods preserve me. Please, please don't hurt me!"

Kate barely stifles a sudden, treacherous giggle. Grey Cap sneers and glances at the others. "Just another coward, after all."

That's when Chloe hits them.

She lunges forward and shoves Grey Cap in the chest, pushing him into two of the others. They fall in a heap, Grey Cap losing his truncheon as they try to disentangle themselves. The man nearest Chloe throws his cloak back and tries to pull a sword.

It's a poor move, what with conditions being as cramped as they are.

Chloe reaches him before his blade clears its sheath and grabs his right hand in hers. She squeezes and twists, crushing his fingers against the hilt of his sword. He loses his grip with a cry of pain and his weapon drops to the ground. Without letting go of his right hand, Chloe punches him in the nose with her left. He sways back, and Chloe quickly kicks the sword towards Kate. She plants her feet and grabs his arm above the elbow with her left hand. She pivots, yanking him forward, off balance.

As he begins to stumble past her, Chloe lets go of his right hand and with a blur of motion slams her right elbow into the side of his head. As he goes limp, she uses her grip on his left arm to turn his body round and shoves his back with her left shoulder, pitching him into the rest of the men behind him.

Grey Cap shoves himself away from his still struggling companions and manages to dodge Chloe's human missile. The other two aren't so lucky, and it takes them precious seconds to recover.

Grey Cap darts in and throws a jab at Chloe's face.

Chloe doesn't try to dodge or block. She steps forward and brings her head down, letting her skull connect with his fist.

There's a crunching noise and Grey Cap is reeling back, face white with pain. Chloe just shakes her head and snorts. She quickly sidesteps, moving behind Grey Cap. She stomps her left foot into the back of Grey Cap's left knee, forcing him down. She follows up with an elbow to the back of his head and he's done for the day.

Chloe hops over Grey Cap and drops into a crouch. A bearded man, the first to recover his feet, yanks out a knife and attacks.

He slashes and stabs with the knife, a blur of motion, and Chloe parries with her left hand, slapping his forearm and bicep, checking and deflecting his strikes. She finds an opening and counters with an openhanded jab, pushing her fingers into his eyes. He cries out in pain, hands flying up to protect his face. Chloe shoots her knee into his groin and almost simultaneously slams her palm into his throat.

He falls over.

Chloe's side on to Kate now, facing the last man. He's young and looks frightened. But he also has a knife in his hand and he isn't backing down.

Chloe's breathing hard. Blood drips from her left hand. Her right hand is empty.

She huffs out an irritated breath at her last opponent. "I don't have all day here. Can we get on with it?"

He proves amenable to the suggestion.

He changes grip on the knife and attacks overhand, screaming out his hate and fear. Chloe kicks low, catching his knee and spoiling his charge. He reaches up with his left hand, grabs Chloe's coat and tries to lever himself into a striking position, his right arm rising up again.

Chloe ignores his left hand, shoots both her arms up, through the crook of his right arm. She hooks her right hand round his elbow, grabs his forearm with her left. She turns and pulls his arm, dragging him down and round, guiding his blade past her torso. Chloe tries to lock his arm out and he frantically tries to break her grip. They struggle for a moment, until the young man gasps and drops the knife.

Probably because Kate's poking a sword into his ribs and stammering, "L-leave her alone!"

Chloe looks up at her wide eyed. Slowly, she grins. She shifts her right hand to grab his collar. With a yell she twists around and flings him bodily into the alley wall. He bounces off, takes two tottering steps, and collapses.

Kate drops the sword, glances nervously behind her. The far end of the alley is still clear, for the moment. "Are you alright?"

Chloe leans against a wall and takes a moment to get her breath back. She glances worriedly at Kate. "They all still breathing?"

"Yes." And, in a tone she didn't know she was capable of, she adds, "And none of them are hurt as much as they deserve."

Chloe stares at Kate, a strange smile creeping onto her face. "Hella! That was...oh, shit! We need to run."

Kate looks back, and sees a group of armed men entering the alley behind them.

"Aram guide us! We need to find the Ducal Guard!"

"No way, that's...actually, that's a great plan."

Chloe stoops down and picks up Grey Cap's truncheon. She grabs Kate's hand, and they're off again.

Chloe leads them down a narrower street. She veers left, taking them back on to the main street she fought so hard to escape. Kate doesn't question her, she just focuses on keeping up.

Chloe slows to a jog, craning her neck as she looks around. There are still a few people on the streets, enough to provide them a little cover. Kate looks back and sees the bearded man from the tea house and half dozen others only a hundred feet back. Closer still, the men who chased them down the alley emerge onto the street, weapons drawn.

Chloe grunts, "There!" She squeezes Kate's hand. "Be casual. We're going to walk. Heads down. We'll turn the next corner, then we're running again."

Kate just nods, and tries to keep her head down and look like a normal citizen. She tries not to think about the sweat on her skin, the disarray of her hair, the armed men getting rapidly closer.

Chloe's been holding the captured truncheon down by her leg in her free hand. Suddenly she whips the truncheon up and hurls it away.

The truncheon sails through the air, across the street and hits something with a clang. There's a yell from behind them, and Kate imagines she can feel breath on the back of her neck. Chloe's hand just drops back to her side and she keeps walking, outwardly calm, whispering to Kate, "Walk!"

Kate manages to keep her pace slow, but can't resist looking up. Her eyes widen in horror.

The clang she heard was caused by Chloe's truncheon hitting the breastplate of a Ducal Guard. There's no real force behind the blow, but the guard and the rest of his patrol turn to see who threw something. They see two young women walking hand in hand. And if it's suspicious that they're sweaty and dirty, that's a small consideration compared to the knot of armed men rushing down the street.

There's the scrape of steel as they draw their swords and the patrol leader bellows, "Halt!"

They reach the corner and Chloe tugs gently and though Kate very much wants to run, or at least to watch what's unfolding behind them, she matches Chloe's slow pace until they're round the corner. She hears shouts, screams and the sounds of combat erupt less than twenty feet behind her.

Chloe breaks into a run again and this time Kate has no trouble keeping up.

* * *

They leave the well-lit thoroughfares behind and head downhill into narrower, more crooked roads. It seems as if shouts and sounds of violence follow them at every turn. She glimpses a squad of Ducal Guards hurrying up a main avenue as the two of them pelt along a side way. Chloe gasps, "We need to get off the streets!"

Kate somehow finds the breath to pant, "Hide?" It's a very appealing idea.

"Sort of!" Chloe drags her towards yet another alley. After tonight, Kate intends to avoid them entirely going forward. They're hateful things.

Halfway down this one, Chloe stops. Kate stumbles to a halt and tries not to fall over. She tries to suck in enough air to satisfy her lungs, and worries that will prove impossible.

Chloe gives her a few seconds. She crouches at Kate's feet. "Kate? We're going onto the roofs. I'm going to boost you up."

"Hu... _what_? Can't-"

"Yeah, you can. You're Kate Marsh, sword wielding bravo. You've got this! Get ready, here we go!"

Before Kate can protest, Chloe's grabbing her legs and launching her upwards. She grabs the edge of the sloping roof and scrambles wildly, almost kicking Chloe in the face as she hauls herself over the edge. Kate rolls onto her side and lies there gasping. She hears a grunt, a few scrabbling sounds, then Chloe's on the roof.

Chloe crouches down, peers around her anxiously. She fidgets impatiently for a minute while Kate tries to recover. When Kate stops gasping like a landed fish, Chloe grabs her arms and helps her up. "Come on, gotta move. Try to stay low, and take it slow. Watch where I'm stepping, and try to follow, okay?"

Kate nods tiredly. "Where...are we going?"

Chloe sighs. "Back up the hill. I'll get you as close to the Ducal Palace as I can, then I'll need to find somewhere to lay low for the night. Fuck! This day never ends."

Kate follows Chloe as best she can as they slip, scurry and jump from roof to roof. Chloe pauses occasionally to look and listen around. And, Kate suspects, to let her rest. It's on one of those breaks, as the lights of the Ducal Palace grow ever nearer, that Kate has an idea.

* * *

The thread of Kate's story snaps when a gust of wind blows open the parlour window. Victoria curses and starts to get up when a dark, shadowy shape flows across the windowsill, and seems to glide across the floor and out of sight behind a chair.

Victoria gasps and grabs the candlestick, hoisting it like a weapon. "What the fuck-"

Out of a patch of darkness, an amused voice whispers, "Evening, your Vicship!"

Kate puts her hand on Victoria's trembling arm. "Um. I meant to tell you earlier. I invited Chloe to stay with us tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, folks! I do appreciate you giving up your time.
> 
> If don't mind giving up a little more time, and you have any feedback, or criticism, I'd love to hear it.
> 
> See you soon for more exciting adventures involving Victoria playing nurse!
> 
> (What you're imagining now is better than anything I could write. I'm sorry and/or you're welcome.)


	9. Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I know, okay? I've never been good at schedules...

Chloe's holding it together.

The first part's easy. She just has to sit quietly in the dark while Victoria closes the window and the shutters.

The next part is trickier, because Kate might be watching. Still, she manages to haul herself upright and walk an almost straight line to a chair near the fire.

She sinks into the chair and takes advantage of the other two arguing to make sure she's not leaking too badly.

"No one'll look for her here! This is the safest place-"

"Apparently not, if she can just stroll in!"

"I didn't stroll. I rolled." Victoria whirls round to glare at her. Kate fails to stifle a laugh.

"Unless you have something useful to say-"

"Kate's right. There's a lot of people looking for me after everything that's happened today. Last place anybody's going to look is here. And don't worry: the security here sucks, but you've got your bodyguard to look after you, right?"

Kate nods her agreement, her chin dipping low and struggling back up. She's clearly wiped. Chloe can sympathise.

Victoria is neither sleepy nor sympathetic. "That doesn't explain how you-"

"Look, about a month ago, I got bored and cased the palace. Turns out they're lazy about patrols, haven't changed them up much. Lazy about gardening, too. There's a spot on the east side of the grounds where trees grow right next to the outer wall. With the right tools, if you're quick, you can be over the wall and into the trees before anyone knows what's up."

Chloe digs in a pocket, pulls out one of the climbing claws she can slip over the toes of her boots. She tosses it to Victoria.

"From there, you can cross to the inner walls. Patrols are even sloppier there, because they figure no one's getting past the outer defences. Over _that_ wall and...well, the gardens are nice, even at night. Lots of things to smell while you're taking cover."

Victoria's jaw works as she examines the piece of spiked steel in her palm. Her voice is surprisingly level when she speaks. "You're a thief. A burglar."

"I prefer entrepreneurial...relocator of stuff."

Victoria tosses the claw back to Chloe. Chloe pockets it and waits for an angry outburst. Instead, Victoria says, "Good. We can put those skills of yours to use."

Kate stirs and squints groggily at Victoria. "Oh! Blackwell?"

"We'll talk about it in the morning."

Chloe shrugs. She examines Kate. She's huddled in a blanket, stripped to her underwear. Victoria's done a good job of cleaning Kate up, but that just makes it easier to see all the scrapes and bruises on her pale skin.

Victoria asks, "Do you know who those men were? Who attacked you?"

Chloe shakes her head. "I thought maybe they were some of David's men. He runs...security for the Magistrate. But...they were way too obvious. David prefers ex-soldiers or guardsmen. These guys clearly didn't have much training. They could be some kind of gang, but the only major one left in Arcadia's run by the Tanner. I don't know of anything I've done lately that would piss him off enough to send twenty-odd people after me. In public."

"I'm sure you make a lot of people angry without noticing."

Chloe's about to ask what _that_ means, but she's distracted when Kate's head dips, jerks back up. She blinks sleepily, catches Chloe staring and blushes. She tugs the blanket down to cover more of her body.

"You okay there, Kate?"

She looks up, smiles. "I'm fine. Thanks to you and Victoria."

Chloe has to bite her tongue. Kate has exactly nothing to thank her for.

Kate suddenly stiffens. "Oh, I forgot the candle! I'm sorry, Chloe!"

"Don't be. You did great, Kate. We're all safe now."

Victoria stares at her. Chloe shrugs.

Victoria speaks in a gentler tone than Chloe imagined her capable of. "Time for bed, Kate."

Chloe stares into the fire while Victoria helps Kate into a nightgown.

She wishes she'd made some different choices this morning. She wishes Rachel was here to calm her down. She wishes she was drunk. She wishes Max was alive.

She misses her mom. She wants her _dad_.

She gasps when the tip of a nose pokes her cheek bone. Kate's lips touch her cheek. "Goo' night, Chloe."

She smiles at Kate's sweet, sleep-fuddled face. "Good night, Kate. See you in the morning."

Victoria hauls her away and Chloe's alone for a while.

* * *

When Victoria comes back, Chloe's swigging from a bottle.

"Hey, Vic, did you know you're almost out of brandy?"

"Crikos, help me endure this!" Victoria folds her arms and glares at Chloe.

Chloe takes another gulp.

"Alright, Chloe. It's just the two of us, now. Strip."

Chloe chokes. "The fuck? You'll need to get me a lot more drunk, Vicky." She studies Victoria in the firelight. "Well, maybe only a _bit_ drunker..."

Her teeth are clenched almost as tight as her fists. "I want. To bind. Your wounds. Before you bleed to death. You fucking idiot!"

"I'm fi-"

Victoria doesn't raise her voice. You could etch steel with it, regardless. "Void take you, you stubborn fool! You're not fine. Kate told me all about your adventures. She might think you're invincible, but no one jumps through windows and takes on knives and gets away without a scratch. You're in obvious pain. You need help. _Let me fucking help you!_ "

Chloe grits her teeth. That last part was an order. Even as she opens her mouth to protest, she feels a weird... _pressure_ building inside her head. It's not exactly painful, but it's a long way from fun.

She feels a gathering tension in her muscles. She glares at Victoria and...stops. Thinks.

Everything that doesn't hurt, aches. Help would be...good.

Chloe sighs. "Yeah. Okay."

The pressure in her head eases off completely.

She stands up, struggles out of her coat. "Should probably start here, then." She lifts her jerkin, pulls a bloody rag away to reveal the two knife wounds in her belly.

Credit to Victoria, she might _look_ like she wants to throw up, but all she does is nod and roll up her sleeves.

* * *

It's Kronus knows when. Chloe thinks that sometime during Victoria's ministrations, they've entered a new day.

Chloe could happily sleep right now, in this chair. But she knows Victoria's got some things on her mind. Besides, there's a lot of debris to clear up: bloody cloths, Kate's ruined dress, all the other odds and ends they've used.

Neither of her stomach wounds were too deep. Slashes, rather than stabs. They both needed stitches, though.

Chloe intends to help Victoria clean up, she really does. But when she tries to stand, she loses count of the parts of her body that protest.

"Oh, just sit down. You'll tear your stitches."

Chloe sinks back into the chair. "Pain in the ass. I'll need to take them out in the morning."

"You heal that quickly?"

"You don't?"

Victoria gives her a suspicious look. "Are you making fun of me again?"

"This humble servant would never dream of mocking the great Lady Chase."

Victoria tosses a few rags on the fire. She pointedly says nothing.

Chloe says, "Look, I...I've never talked to anybody like...me before. I don't know how most of this stuff works."

"Oh. Well, for a start, I don't heal much faster than the next person. Aram's gifts aren't as...physical as Hella's. I have a really good memory, though. I learn quickly...things like that."

"Sounds like you got the better end of this deal, your Vicship."

"Gods, you're fucking insufferable! Must you keep using those stupid nicknames?"

"So order me to stop."

Victoria picks up the basin. She strides stiffly over to the window, opens it and empties the bloody water out. She closes the window and the shutters again, comes back and stands over Chloe.

"Don't think I won't."

Chloe grins, shakes her head. "You won't. I think you kinda like getting teased."

Chloe watches Victoria's jaw muscles tighten, a vein throb in her forehead. She hisses out a breath, then mutters, "You are _not_ like me."

"Right. You're nobility. I'm street trash."

Victoria laughs bitterly. "I'm nobility because I'm descended from one of Aram's Chosen. You actually _are_ Chosen. There's not really anyone one like you alive today."

"Maybe you should make me Queen, then. Solve a whole lot of problems."

Victoria sighs and a lot of tension leaves her face, her body. She sits on the floor with her back to the couch, facing Chloe. "Maybe it would. But it won't happen. Only someone with Kronus' blessing can rule Elysium."

"And that's only passed down through the bloodlines of the kings and queens. So even if we find the essence, however _that's_ supposed to work, we're still fucked, because Gregory didn't have any kids."

"It's...not the first time that's happened."

Chloe stares at Victoria. She looks away, into the shadows. "Vic...toria. What do you mean?"

"You can't tell anyone about this."

It's Chloe's turn for a bitter laugh. "I know exactly two other people in this city that I actually care about. And...I don't tell them everything, either."

"Boo hoo. You still can't tell anyone. That's-"

"An order. I know. I can tell, now."

That shuts Victoria up for a moment. "The candle..."

"Right. Kate tried to describe where your suite was, but I told her to put a candle in the window to give me something to aim for."

"But she forgot..."

"So I followed you, instead. I can...sense you. Because of the oath, I guess. It gets stronger, the closer I get to you. It took a while to get my head round it, but I figured out how to use that feeling to track you."

"That's...good thinking. But don't be hard on Kate, she wasn't in good shape-"

"Oh, I've been waiting for this part!"

Victoria jumps in surprise.

"I _know_ , okay? I fucked up! I thought those guys were just going to watch us. If I'd had half a fucking clue...Kate could've been..." Chloe glares at the fire.

Victoria's quiet for what feels like a long time.

"Chloe...none of us expected anything like this. You got caught off guard. But you got out. You put yourself in harm's way and got Kate out. She's grateful. I...I am, too."

"Save it. You don't know how it went down-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Chloe. I'm not interested in your self-pity."

Chloe turns angrily and...stops. She needs to get a hold of herself.

Victoria starts gathering up the salves, bandages, needles and thread.

Chloe watches Victoria get up and stride out of the parlour with the medical supplies. Watches her walk back in, a minute later, with an embroidered silk nightgown in her hands. She drapes it over one end of the couch, drops herself next to it.

"So, uh...you were telling me about other times Kings have died without heirs?"

Victoria watches her for a moment. The expression on her shadow-flecked face is hard to read. "Right. Normally, a small amount of divine essence is passed from a parent to a child. I inherited some of Aram's essence from my father. Some of Engramma's from my mother. But Aram's has always been dominant in me. When my father died a couple of years ago, the rest of Aram's essence passed to me, his only living heir. Just like it did to him, and to his mother, and so on, all the way back to Chase himself."

"Huh. Uh, sorry for your loss."

Victoria shrugs. "He was a shitty person."

"He was your dad."

Her shoulders hunch. "Yeah. He was my father."

Chloe doesn't really know what to say, so she says nothing for a while. She realises that something about what Victoria's saying doesn't add up, but _Gods_ , she's tired. Victoria starts speaking before she can work it out.

"Anyway. If a noble dies without a direct heir, the essence passes to a sister, or a cousin or...another blood relative. If there aren't _any_ relatives left, then the essence just...goes. The noble line is extinguished. It's happened a few times, to some of the lesser families."

"Wait, so...what happens if there's more than one kid?"

"They each get a little piece of the essence. But only one inherits the rest of it, usually the eldest. Not always, though."

"So, over time, with lots of kids..."

"The essence gets diminished, spread out. A lot of nobles these days don't really benefit from their essence beyond the status it grants them."

"So...what makes the monarch different?"

"According to the chronicles of the priests of Kronus, there's been one other occasion when a monarch has died without an heir. Centuries ago. Kronus' essence was passed on to a new King. A minor noble, from a house long forgotten now. King Gregory is descended from his line. The same thing should have happened this time. At least, that's what my mother thinks. That storm...the sorcery behind it wasn't meant to just kill Gregory, it was meant to scatter Kronus' essence. Someone wants Elyisum without a ruler. Someone wants a civil war."

"Why wouldn't the sorcerer just destroy the essence? How do you know how it's out there? How in Martis' name do we find it?"

"It can't be destroyed. It's a piece of a God, after all. When a bloodline ends, the essence isn't really lost. It returns to the God that first granted it. At least, that's the theory. But when Kronus gave his essence to Elyse the First, it was different. Kronus' gift was permanent. There was always meant to be an unbroken chain of rulers, even if they weren't directly related. And so, we believe that Kronus' essence is...looking for a way back to Elyisum. A way to...restore the monarch."

Chloe feels a chill spread through her, in spite of the fire beside her. "You think it's...attached itself to someone, don't you?"

Victoria laughs. There's no joy in it. "It's not my theory. Kronus' and Aram's priests came up with it. The loyal ones, at least. And my mother. But you're right. They... _we_ think that Kronus' essence must have attached itself to someone, after the storm. But it was the wrong someone. Not a noble, not whoever it was meant for, or they'd have come forward by now. No, there's someone else out there, someone who got caught in the storm. Someone who almost certainly is in Arcadia, who has the key to restoring the kingdom. They probably don't even know it."

"So...you want to find the sorcerer, to try to figure out how the spell worked. So you track down where... _who_ might have it?"

"And to make them pay for their crimes."

"What makes you think they're still in Arcadia?"

"Do you think Kate and I are the only people who've been sent to investigate this? In five years?"

"Uh...now you put it that way, no?"

"There have been investigations throughout the country. Arcadia's the only place where...well, where...clues were found. Kate and I were chosen because I can get access to things here without rousing suspicion. And Kate's a sensitive. She'll find Kronus' essence, once we get close. We just need more information."

"Blackwell?"

"Yes. There might be clues there. Travel papers, incident reports, chronicles...something that could point us towards the sorcerer or our essence thief."

"There's a lot more than that there. You know Wells is basically running the biggest criminal network in the city, right?"

"There've been...rumours..." Victoria turns her face away.

Ah. There it is. "Yeah, 'rumours'. Any of those rumours involve the fact that he's backed in all of this by the Prescotts? He's pretty much the Duke's cutout. Sean's got his claws deep in criminality in this town, and Wells is the man he'll hang if anything too scandalous comes to light."

"You can't prove that," Victoria says stiffly.

"I don't have to. This isn't a court. I _know_ it's true, though. And I know that Wells keeps records of everything hidden away in Blackwell. All the proof anyone could ever need. About any sort of crime that the Prescotts might have been involved in." A little fact that David let slip one evening, deep in his cups.

It's not so dark that she doesn't see Victoria flinch. "That...thought had occurred to me."

"So that's why the four day time limit. You want to find out if your prospective father-in-law had a hand in murdering the king before your nuptials."

Victoria stares at her. She bites her lip, looks away again. "...Yes."

Victoria gets up. The only evidence left of the waning night's work is Kate's dress. Victoria gathers it up and starts folding it. "I can't burn this here. I'll need to hide it somewhere."

Conversation over, then. "Well, I can probably sneak it out tomorrow. Somehow..."

"Your plan was to sneak out in broad daylight?"

"I...did not plan that far ahead. I haven't been having the sort of day where plans mean much of anything, anyway. I somehow doubt tomorrow...shit, _today_ will be any better."

"I'm hardly surprised that _your_ plans fall apart. That's why I'll be taking charge from here on out."

She tucks the ruined dress under her arm. She points at the nightgown. "That's for you. Come on, you're sleeping with me."

Chloe just raises her eyebrows.

It takes Victoria a couple of seconds to get it. She turns an enjoyable shade of red. "The servants won't disturb my room in the morning! I won't have to explain what you're doing here."

Chloe grins. "Oooh, that's a good line. You've used that before, I can tell."

" _You're sleeping on the fucking floor!_ "

* * *

Chloe's awakened some time after dawn by Victoria kicking her feet.

"Up, you. There's work to do."

Victoria's up, bathed, dressed and smug about it. Chloe groans. It's a hard floor, even lying on a blanket. She stands and stretches, careful not to pull her stitches.

Victoria smirks and says, "Breakfast's waiting in the parlour. Move it!"

"Oh, certainly, Your Chaseness!"

Chloe's too tired and too hungry to protest beyond that. She stumbles into the parlour ahead of Victoria, absently tugging off her bandana and rubbing her scalp.

Kate's there, cradling a steaming mug of tea. She's only slightly more awake than Chloe, but there's no question, in the morning light, with her hair down and a smile on her lips, she looks...better. She turns in her seat as Chloe comes into the room. She doesn't make it through the first word of greeting before she's overtaken by a giggling fit.

"What's with you guys?" Chloe looks down at herself. She forgot she was wearing Victoria's flowery nightgown. "Oh."

Kate shakes her head and tries to fight down the laughter. "Sorry, I just...that's not what I was expecting!" She blushes and contemplates her tea. "You...you look really nice, though."

Kate looks up again and her eyes widen. "Your hair! Oh, it's beautiful!"

Chloe quickly moves to put the bandana back on, then hesitates. It's not like there's much point in hiding it at this point. Not from these two.

"Uh...I'm glad to see you're feeling better, Kate."

She smiles. "Thanks to you. You were so brave yesterday-"

"Yes, yes, everyone was very brave." Victoria strides briskly into the parlour, glances at Chloe's hair, then dismisses it. "But we basically just got through the day. We didn't get much _done_. Today we fix that."

A table's been set up next to the couch. It's surface is obscured by plates, pots, and cups. Most of them contain things that look good to eat or drink. Chloe heaps food onto a plate and helps herself to a cup of tea. She's about to join Kate on the couch when Victoria brushes past her and claims the seat for herself. She gives Chloe a blank look.

"Sit down, Chloe. We've got a lot of things to arrange."

Chloe frowns. "You okay this morning, Vic-"

"Today you're my bodyguard. So. Repeat after me: La-dy Chase. Do you think you'll be able to manage that?"

Kate gives Chloe a bewildered look. She says, "But, Victoria...um, Lady Chase. Chloe's in hiding. She can't-"

Victoria smiles at Kate. "We'll be taking care of that straight after breakfast. Now. Chloe. What do you need to get into Blackwell?"

Chloe follows up a mouthful of some savoury pastry...thing with a gulp of tea. "Well...I've generally tried to stay away from Blackwell. My, uh...David...well, he runs a lot of the muscle Blackwell uses, so I have some idea about _who_ I'll be up against. But I'll need to do a lot of asking around about locks, safes, guard routes.... I'll need to scout the exterior, too. Once that's done, getting the tools shouldn't be too hard. I know the best fixer in the city. But it'll cost, especially if we're in a hurry."

"Money won't be an issue." Victoria's eyes narrow. "But I expect to get charged a reasonable amount, Chloe."

"Naturally, Lady Chase."

Kate frowns pensively. "I...might be able to get inside Blackwell."

Victoria says, "What do you mean?"

At the same time, Chloe says, "No way!"

Chloe finds herself getting glared at by both Kate and Victoria. "Look, Kate. I can find out what we need. It'll take some time, but that's better than you risking-."

"Our time is in short supply, Chloe. I can make contact with the local order of Aram. Visiting priests and scholars are often given tours of Blackwell. There's a great many religious texts and works of history preserved there, not just legal documents."

"That still seems-"

"This is my mission, Chloe. My duty. I swore an oath, too. You _don't_ get to tell me what I'm allowed to risk!"

"Look, I..." Chloe realises that Kate's shaking. With anger, with...hurt. Kate's got a soft voice, a soft way about her. But Chloe can't ignore the obvious any longer. Kate's not a soft person. She's proven herself to be tough, determined and intelligent. That she's also compassionate and gentle makes her more impressive, not less.

"Shit. Sorry, Kate. After seeing you in action yesterday, I know you can handle yourself. I just don't like the idea of you going into danger alone."

Chloe's rewarded with a shy smile. "I don't either! But I'll do whatever is necessary to save Elysium."

"Well, you can both stop worrying. We're all going in together. Today."

"Uh, Vic...how?"

Victoria sighs. "People in this city seem to keep forgetting something very important." She pauses to sip some tea.

"Which is...?"

"I'm Lady Victoria Fucking Chase. It's time everybody understood what that means."

* * *

Half an hour later the Kate and Chloe are struggling to keep up with Victoria as she leads them through the halls of the palace, head held high.

Kate's in a fresh dress, her hair once again piled into a bun.

Chloe's in some of Victoria's training clothes. They're a little tight, a little too small, and silk and velvet feel strange on her skin. But at least she's wearing trousers and a doublet.

She's also wearing her bandana, damp from being washed, her coat and a fresh dressing over her wounds. As predicted, the stitches are out. She's not fully healed down there, but most of her other bumps and bruises are gone. That's more than can be said for poor Kate.

Kate glances over at her and smiles cheerfully. Chloe sort of grimaces back.

Victoria leads them outside, through the palace grounds, towards the barracks. Servants, guards, nobles...there's a lot of people that Chloe would prefer to avoid staring at her. But none of them challenge Victoria.

Yet.

Chloe feels her heart speed up. "Hey, Vic...what exactly is the plan here?"

She doesn't respond, just leads them confidently into the barracks. Chloe hesitates at the doors, until she realises that that's just making the guards take an interest in her. She hurries inside.

Victoria graciously accepts an officer's bow and says, "I'm looking for Hayden. A friend of Zachary Riggins."

They're escorted to a common room where a number of young guardsmen are busy checking and polishing their weapons and armour. There's a relaxed, convivial atmosphere in the room. Right up until Chloe steps in.

Chloe still has her knife, sheathed at her hip in place of her lost sabre.

There's eight men in this room, all with swords and knives in easy reach. They're all staring at her. Word's got around, then.

"Lady Chase? Maybe we should-"

Victoria raises her hand. Chloe shuts up, quietly fuming.

"I'm looking for Hayden."

A young black man stands and bows. He's as relaxed and confident as Chloe currently isn't. "Lady Chase, you honour us!" There's an amused glint in his eye. "What can we do for you?"

Kate suddenly reaches out, takes her hand behind Victoria's back, out of sight of the others. She squeezes gently.

"You're Zachary Riggins' second, correct?"

He grins. "I drew the short straw, yeah." There are some chuckles from the others. Chloe thinks she recognises a couple of Logan's friends from yesterday. They aren't laughing.

Victoria gestures at Chloe. "This is Chloe Madsen. My new bodyguard. Zach challenged her to a duel yesterday."

Hayden nods. His smile fades as he contemplates Chloe. His tone becomes mocking. "I was told to expect her second, but I'm shocked and dismayed to report that they never showed up."

There's a moment of silence. If Kate wasn't still holding her hand, Chloe would probably go for her knife.

Victoria steps further into the room. She smiles at Hayden. "Well, I'm here now. And I have a busy day ahead of me. So let's make the arrangements, shall we?"

Chloe's mouth drops open.

Everyone stares at Victoria. Hayden looks a lot less relaxed. " _You're_ her second?"

"Yes. That's right. I'll make all the arrangements with you, as the law states." She pours acid into the next words. "And, as the law states, I stand ready to take Chloe's place in the ring if _anything_ should happen to her."

And if anything should happen to Victoria in the ring, the Prescotts' hopes of an alliance with Skald are dashed and the balance of power in Elysium shifts against Arcadia. Victoria's gambling a great deal in an open act of defiance against Sean Prescott. For _Chloe_.

It's not lost on anyone in the room.

"Well..." Hayden shakes his head. "The low circle. Tomorrow morning. Rapiers. If that suits you?"

Chloe tries not to wince. She's no kind of fencer, and has little experience with rapiers. At least the low circle is good news. It's for disputes between those of non-noble stock. It's the least public option. Less people will see her getting repeatedly stabbed.

Victoria snorts. "She's the challenged. Her choice of weapon. War swords."

Chloe brightens. A straight, heavy blade definitely suits her better.

But Victoria's not done. "And she's my oathbound vassal. The _high_ circle. Tomorrow afternoon."

Oh, fuck. The high circle means the Magistrate will be in attendance, along with any number of Arcadian nobles. Maybe even the Duke...

Hayden looks around the room, gets only blank stares back. "Alright. That's...the way it's going to be then. I can recommend a good healer for you, if that would be helpful?"

Victoria inclines her head. "That's kind, but I'll find my own. You could arrange an escort for me, though. I intend to visit Magistrate Wells today. I hear he has an excellent collection of histories I'd love to examine."

"Ah...the Magistrate would have to approve-"

Victoria smiles sweetly. "I'll take a stroll in the garden. Notify me when the arrangements are made and my carriage is ready. Half an hour should be sufficient, don't you think?"

Hayden swallows. "Ah...yes, of course. Lady Chase."

Victoria gestures and Chloe steps aside as Kate scrambles to hold the door open for her. Victoria strides out without a backward glance and Chloe finds herself almost running after her.

When they're in the gardens and out of earshot of passersby, Chloe hisses, "What the fuck was that? Everybody in the palace...in the _city_ is going to know who I am."

Victoria rolls her eyes. "You were hardly anonymous after yesterday's antics. The difference is, now everybody knows you're _mine_. No one's going to fuck with you, now. At least, not until after the duel."

"Are you out of your-"

"Chloe!" Kate takes her arm. "You won't be much use if you have to hide the whole time you're supposed to be helping us. This will make things easier."

Chloe slumps. "It won't make being a thief easier," she grumbles. But she's not really got much argument left in her at this point.

Kate squeezes her arm and says, "Things will work out, Chloe. I believe the Gods are guiding us."

Victoria suddenly laughs, startling them both. She grins at them. "More to the point, you're working for a Chase! So who's ready to go case Blackwell?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading folks! I really, really appreciate you sticking with me on this.
> 
> Just out of curiosity, does my haphazard posting of stuff bug people? Would you prefer I stick more rigidly to a weekly update? I intend to keep to a chapter a week, minimum. I'm getting them written a bit quicker than that, though, roughly every 4-5 days, and I kinda just want to put them out when they're done. 
> 
> If you've any thoughts on that, or anything else you'd like to share, or even if you just want to say hello, please do leave a comment. There's no need to be shy!
> 
> As to the next chapter, it'll be from Nessa's POV and it probably won't be ready for Friday, but will go out no later than Tuesday. It will be a no doubt welcome return to matters of law and medieval writing technologies.


	10. Lawspeaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Shuffles feet* I hope you like this one...

It's early when she sneaks back from the _Two Whales_. So early, dawn is threatening to break.

She's lucky, luckier than she deserves to be. No one catches her using one of her knives to work the latch of the back door. No one catches her going back to her room.

She puts down her bag, looks longingly at the bed and sighs. She sits down at her desk.

She takes a scrap of parchment, cheap ink and an old quill and begins to write out in Elysian the clan laws on forfeiture of property rights. It should hopefully encourage sleep to find her sooner rather than later.

It will help keep the thing in her head at bay, too. She hopes.

As she works, she thinks about Rachel Amber. They spent almost five hours together. She could have finished Rachel's travel papers in half the time, but Rachel asked a lot of questions about her tools and technique. And...the truth is she dragged the whole thing out because it's been so long since she's had someone she can enjoy spending time with, with relatively few complications.

It's a relief from the business of the Northern clans.

That's the last coherent thought she has before sleep takes her.

* * *

She dreams about the Lawspeaker.

In her dream, memories are compressed, experiences elided. Conversations she heard before she learned the language she understands with perfect clarity.

* * *

Snorri leads them through the snow. Half a dozen boys and girls, Bersi among them. And her. She's never been to this part of the clan's lands before. She's heard stories, though, about old man Ref. The Lawspeaker. The man whose judgements bind the clans together.

She's been Snorri's thrall for six months. It is better than the alternative. Better than the Mermedonians.

It is not a good life.

Snorri isn't cruel. He's...hard. He only respects those as unyielding as he is. But Snorri is the Chieftain. He expects everyone to yield to him.

As she shivers beneath her cloak, she wonders how much worse things will get.

She's past the point of thinking things will ever get better.

The children pile into the house and crowd round the fire.

She's cold, so very cold, but knows better than to try to join them. She lowers her eyes when Bersi peers round, looking for her. He's a kind boy, eager to make friends, but Snorri's made his feelings clear on that subject.

Ref's house is simple and uncluttered. There's one table, two chairs, a few plain utensils. No wall hangings. No ornaments. There's nothing that gives a hint about who Ref is, except for Ref himself.

He was tall, once. Almost eighty winters press down on his spine, now, and leave him bowed. He keeps a beard, as do all the men in Snorri's clan, but only a few wisps of hair drift across his scalp.

"What is this now, Snorri? Must you hound me to my grave? Will you pester me even into the Hall Beyond?"

"And greetings to you, Ref, son of Rolf. I bring you a new thrall and a new apprentice."

"I want neither."

"You need a thrall. The Northlands need your apprentice."

"I have taken eight, I believe, who are all still breathing. They know the laws of the clans and have decent brains. Two, perhaps three between them. Is that not enough?"

"And is knowledge of the laws of the clans all it takes, Ref? There are other Laws..."

"They call themselves lawspeakers, do they not? And who contradicts them?"

Snorri's voice is firm. "I do. I remember the restless dead at Eyr. I remember the sorcerers at Snaefell. I remember who dealt with them, and how. There must always be a Lawspeaker."

"Ha! You were a child, Snorri. In some ways, you still are."

"Only in your eyes, Ref." He gestures towards the fire. "That is what children look like."

The old man sighs. "Let's see what you've brought me."

He looks them over, asks each of them questions in a low voice. He seems unmoved by their answers. Snorri watches carefully, especially when it's Bersi's turn.

His disappointment is palpable when Bersi answers and Ref just laughs and ruffles Bersi's hair.

When he's done questioning them, he shrugs at Snorri. "Any of them will do."

None of them will do.

Snorri shakes his head. "Ref, I will be blunt. You have lived a long time. How many more winters will you last? You must pass on what you know before you die. Not even the Volvas know all the lore you-"

Ref raises a finger to his lips. She's startled when Snorri obeys. It's at that moment that Ref notices her. "Who is this?"

"Your new thrall. An Elysian girl. My gift to you."

Something glitters in Ref's eyes. "A gift? Pah! I've not lost my wits, yet, Snorri. A gift is a way of putting the receiver into the debt of the giver. I'll take no gifts without fair exchange, and I've only this to offer." Ref pats something under the sleeve on his left arm.

"My father gave you that. And you will never part with it, I know." Snorri frowns. "We can come to another arrangement later-"

But Ref ignores him and limps towards her. He addresses her in Elysian. "Girl. I have a question for you."

She curtseys, knees shaking. "I...yes? M-my lord?"

His expression softens. "I'm not a lord or anything of the sort. I am the Lawspeaker. I serve the people. And you shouldn't wear out your knees like that. Take it from an old man."

She manages a weak smile, until she sees Snorri scowling at her.

Snorri grunts, "Wait outside, girl."

Ref says, "Chieftain." His voice is mild, but there's rebuke enough in the word to give even Snorri pause.

Ref looks at her closely. He has one green eye, and one brown, she notices. "Answer me this. Why did Engramma seal the Void?"

It surprises her. It seems a strange question to ask. And there's a simple answer to that question, so it has to be a trick. But what sort of trick?

If she's surprised, Snorri's shocked to his core. "Ref! Lawspeaker, she is a thrall-"

"You started this, Chieftain. I will see it through. Your answer, girl.

It's one of her favourite stories. Engramma was the daughter of Kronus and Aram. Kronus, King of the Gods, protecter of the hearth and society. Aram, his Queen, dispenser of Justice. Engramma was the God of scholars. When Engramma lived, the world of Gods and humans shared a border with the realm of the demons.

The Void.

For years there was peace, but eventually demons and humans came into conflict. Countless lives were lost. The Gods granted humans their essence to combat the demons, but it wasn't enough. The time came when the Gods Themselves thought to make war on the Void.

But Engramma sacrificed herself before it came to that. She used all of her remaining essence, the whole of her being, to seal the Void. She created a barrier that the demons could not cross. Everyone knows that she did it to save humanity from the demons.

That's the obvious answer.

She starts to speak, but stops when she sees Snorri's expression. Ref leans in closer to her. There's a hint of mockery in his voice when he asks, "Is it not a simple question, child? Have you no answer?"

She's almost fifteen. She isn't a child anymore. But she's never been good at standing up for herself. So she pretends she's someone else. Someone taller, braver, cleverer than she is. She makes fists of her shaking hands and stares into Ref's mismatched eyes.

"You're trying to trick me. There's more than one answer."

"Is there?"

There is. Everyone knows the story of Engramma. But only a few know the _stories_.

Once she had wanted to be a scholar herself. Thanks to her parents she had spent two years apprenticed to a scribe at Blackwell. She had applied herself diligently to learning the art of writing, and her reward for hard work had been a chance to pore over some of Blackwell's library of manuscripts.

There were a lot of stories about Engramma. What fascinated her was, no two of them agreed on all the details.

She remembers her favourite version of the tale and chooses her words carefully. "Engramma saw that the Gods were set on war and that as things were, doom would follow. She went to the border of the world and the Void and she opened her veins. She used Her blood as Her ink and the borderlands as Her parchment and She wrote until She was no more and the Void was sealed. She made it so that no demon could ever cross into the world." She bites her lip. "But..."

Snorri snorts, "Children's tales."

Ref quells him with a glance, then raises an eyebrow at her. "But?"

"But she also made it so that some demons _could_ cross...if they were invited. That's...that's my favourite version."

Ref inclines his head. "And mine. Not many know it. But I didn't ask how She sealed the Void. I asked _why_."

She hesitates. "They say She did it to save humanity from the demons."

"They do." He laughs. "What do _you_ say?"

"That...Engramma was smart. The smartest of the Gods. If She thought that the demons had to be stopped, why would She let people invite them back? And...I always wondered...though, it's stupid." Her voice trails off, her confidence fading.

"Perhaps it is stupid. Perhaps it is not. I would still like to hear it."

"I wondered if she did the same thing for the demons' side of things? Maybe she left a way so that each side could ...talk."

Ref nods slowly. "Go on."

Snorri growls, "You take this joke too far, Ref. If you do not want the thrall, I will take her back. Now."

"Peace, Chieftain. I am making up my mind. It is an old mind. It moves slowly. Go on, girl."

"Well...the story said that She saw destruction coming. But it didn't say it was just for people...for us. Demons would have been destroyed. Maybe even...other Gods. Engramma didn't want that. So...She made it so that the demons and humans couldn't be in the same place. Unless the other side invited them to be. I...I don't think She was trying to punish or protect one side or the other. I think she was trying to find a way to save _everyone_. Or...to give them time to figure out how to...make peace? I don't know. It's just what I thought about, when I read the story."

She wonders if he even hears the last words, she mumbles them so softly. She looks down at her feet and wonders how Snorri will punish her.

Ref crooks a finger in front of her nose. She looks up. His face is solemn. He says, "There is more to the story. There is always more to the ancient stories. This much I will offer freely. I do not know how She sealed the Void, but I do know what the seal is. Would you like me to tell you?"

He asks the question lightly, but there's something in his eyes that tells her it's another trick.

"No."

She hears Bersi gasp at her refusal.

Ref can't quite hide a smile. "No?

"I think you'd like _me_ to tell _you_."

"I must be a devious sort. Why would I want that?"

"To see if I know...no, that's not right. To see if I can figure out the answer. And the only way I could is if...Engramma made a law! That's what she used to seal the Void!" She feels something strange. A tickle in her mind.

She catches just a glimpse of emotion pass through Ref's eyes as he nods. He turns to Snorri. He slowly straightens and reaches under the sleeve of his tunic. He removes an engraved gold ring from his arm and presses it into Snorri's unwilling hands.

Snorri looks furious and...frightened.

"Snorri, son of Egill, I accept your gift. Accept mine in return."

* * *

When she wakes up, she's unsurprised to find herself at her desk in the inn.

She _is_ surprised to find her best piece of vellum lying beyond her splayed fingers, covered in writing. She feels a chill creep along her spine as she reads. It's a bill of sale for the _Two Whales_ , awaiting only the owner's signature.

It's written in her hand. She didn't write it.

The ink is dry. She bites her lip, reaches for the vellum.

 _Pressure_ in her skull, like never before. She doesn't black out, but for several seconds she's blind.

Then it's gone, and she's sweating and panting, but she can see. She feels relief.

Until the implications of the dream, the document, all of it catch up to her.

Something terrible is going to happen. And the...thing in her head is warning her. And giving her a weapon. The sort of weapon only the truly mad or desperate would risk. The kind of weapon only someone trained by the Lawspeaker could use.

She takes the bill and carefully rolls it up. She slides it into the tube she keeps her blank vellum in and puts that into her bag.

Then she starts to get ready. She washes and dresses slowly. She needs time to think.

* * *

Ulfar's waiting for her when she finally goes downstairs.

He nods at her. "Snorri told me I'm with you today. What's first?"

"Well, new clothes. Elysian style. Then I have...a business meeting."

At the _Two Whales_. With Rachel Amber.

And hopefully nothing else.

"Nessa?"

She blinks and barely gets her hands up in time to catch the pouch Ulfar tosses to her.

He grins. "Still sleepy? Helgi said you might as well spend the rest of his prize money."

"Oh. Right. Good."

She tucks the coins into her bag. "Let's go, then."

* * *

She hasn't gotten out much during the day in the last month and Arcadia is changed since she was a child. The result of the infamous storm, she supposes, and everything that must have followed.

They leave the docks behind and climb the hill towards Arcadia's more prosperous districts.

Ulfar's a warrior, at home in a shield wall or on a longboat. Yet he seems to have more patience for the interminable process of shopping than she does. It's jarring at first, to see him examining clothes and interrogating tailors. But it makes sense, too. He takes the business of making her look Elysian as seriously as any other task assigned him.

She's able to find a few things in various shops and stalls. A new blouse and trousers, more Elysian in cut and texture than her Northern homespun and leather garb. A cheap dress that won't need too much adjustment, shoes... Functional things.

The last thing she needs is a cloak. She finds a heavy grey cloak at a stall and reaches for her purse. Ulfar coughs theatrically.

"What?"

"The blue one suits you better."

She snorts. "It's not about how good I look. Just so long as I look more Elysian. And the blue one's more expensive."

"As you say, Volva."

"Not you, too. I'm not a witch, Ulfar!"

He grins. "You cured Skeggi when a runestone made him sick."

"What? Is that what people say? He dug a new well too near his outhouse! There was no magic involved! Just stupidity."

"But you _do_ know the secret of runes."

"Yes! They're an alphabet. And each individual rune is also a word. That's it! The whole secret, Ulfar."

His grin broadens. "Just what a true Volva would say!"

She turns to the confused merchant. "Could I have the blue cloak, please?"

Ulfar laughs.

As they leave the traders behind, Ulfar steers her down an unfamiliar street.

"Where are we going? I've got what I need."

"You need a haircut."

"What's wrong my hair?"

"It looks like you just cut bits off with a blunt knife when they annoy you."

Not true. She uses a sharp knife.

"I think it looks fine," she grumbles.

He shrugs. "It's not about how good it looks..."

"We haven't spoken much before now, have we?"

"No, Volva."

"You're annoyingly clever."

He laughs. "Thank you, Volva."

She groans. "Please, stop calling me that. Just call me-"

"Nessa. Why do you think we call you Volva?"

"I have no idea. I don't know any magic."

"How did you deal with Glam yesterday?"

"Snorri dealt with Glam-"

"Helgi told me the whole story."

Helgi! Idiot! "I just reminded them of the settlement they agreed to."

He shakes his head. "Ha! What about the time Klaufi and Helgi almost killed each other? How did you stop them?"

Oh, that had been a scary one. The two had been cutting timber, far away from witnesses. Klaufi is more like a shaved bear than a man and Helgi that day had been hungover and surly. Insults had been exchanged, prelude to blows. She had stumbled on the scene on her way to fetch water for Ref.

She got between them before a blow could be struck. She yelled at them, called them worse things than they'd called each other. In the shocked, angry silence that followed, she pointed out that the only witnesses to the insults were the three of them. They could withdraw the words, pay suitable compensation, and end the matter. Or they could go back to killing each other.

And her, too.

They'd both been furious with her. They'd both cursed her. They'd both agreed to be bound by her judgement. She in turn had sworn never to tell anyone about the incident.

It was a tense summer, a shaky peace. Word got round that Helgi and Klaufi had fallen out, and people waited for violence to come. But they all kept their word and summer had bled out into winter. In the spring, Klaufi had surprised her with a gift: the bag she now uses for her writing tools. Helgi had performed a simple ritual, mingled their blood, and named her his sister. She still has a tiny scar on her hand where Helgi's knife cut. He has a matching one on his right palm.

She was naive to think that those gestures weren't noticed."I just...happened to be nearby. I pointed out how stupid they were being."

Ulfar snorts. "Well, that explains everything, then."

She feels a faint pressure in her head. "I can't talk about it, Ulfar. I swore an oath. But there was no magic involved."

He stops and she almost walks into him. His dark eyes bore into hers. "You say that. But it looks like magic to others. The clever things you do. Wise woman. Volva. Do you understand?"

"It's not what I am. It's not a title I've earned, Ulfar."

And something changes in his face. Something that makes him look away quickly. "Snorri will not let us use the title you _have_ earned. We call you what is closest to the respect owed you."

She is reminded, yet again, that for all the things Ref taught her, for all the things she's learned...she still understands so little.

"I...should really get that haircut."

He smiles. "Wise."

* * *

By the time she's changed into her new clothes, sporting her new, shoulder length hair, she looks a lot more like an Elysian. It doesn't feel like putting on a mask. It feels like stripping off a disguise.

It feels right.

Convincing Ulfar to wait outside the _Two Whales_ isn't easy, but she manages it by pointing out that he'll spook her contact. He doesn't like it, but he agrees to wait down the street.

It's a small relief, knowing he won't be at the centre of things when the trouble starts. He isn't equipped for this sort of battle.

She really doesn't think she is, either. But she's probably the most qualified person in Arcadia. And this is her responsibility.

So.

She goes in through the front door this time, keeps her hood up. The common room of the _Two Whales_ is busy, but not crowded. She buys an ale she won't drink and finds a table in the corner where she can watch the people and the comings and goings.

She isn't quite sure who she's looking for, but she thinks she'll know when she sees them.

She pretends to sip her ale and watches everyone else.

Men and women. Sailors and merchants. Dock workers and scribes. Criminals and citizens.

She thinks of all the oaths she's sworn. She thinks of her childhood, of Blackwell, of Snorri, of Rachel. Of the thing in her head. She wonders if there's any part of her self left that isn't bound by an oath. She'll never keep them all, fulfil them all. She feels crushed by the weight of them.

She makes another, anyway: She won't fail these people today.

The door opens and three young women enter the tavern. The leader is a blonde woman, confident, superior. Nobility. Behind her, a tall woman in an old green coat cracks a joke that makes the third woman, shorter, long hair piled on her head, giggle and cover her mouth.

She doesn't watch longer than that. She knows, even without the little throb in her head. It's the blonde, the noblewoman. She's the one marked for death.

She pushes away from the table, crosses to the door marked with an 'X'. She knocks, the way Rachel showed her last night.

She's let in by another woman, and there's Rachel at the table, polishing a sabre. Rachel smiles like she's crawled through a desert and just found water.

Oh, Gods. This isn't going to be easy.

"Nessa! Finally! Juliet, _this_ is Nessa. She's had a haircut. Isn't it nice? Nessa, this is my friend, Juliet."

Juliet gives Rachel an odd look.

"Juliet...Madsen? I'll be writing some papers for you..." Later. If there is a later.

Juliet wrenches her gaze from Rachel. "Watson. I'm Juliet Watson."

"Oh. Well...nice to meet you."

"Nessa, sit, sit. Juliet, could you please get some tea?"

Juliet gives Rachel another look. "Okay..."

She sits and nods at the sabre as Juliet heads out. "Expecting trouble?"

"Huh? Oh, no. This is for a friend. She dropped it. I'm always picking up after her."

Juliet's gone. Now's the time. She reaches into her bag, pulls out the leather tube. "Rachel..."

"Nessa. I've got very good news on the Blackwell front. It so happens that a friend of friend knows a scribe who, for a very reasonable fee, has become quite gravely ill. There's a slot opened up at Blackwell, and I took the liberty of getting you an interview. Tomorrow afternoon. You may now thank me." Rachel says this in an insufferably smug tone, but there's that warm smile on her lips, in her eyes.

She unrolls the bill of sale. Puts the pouch with the few marks left from the morning's shopping on top.

"That's great, Rachel. Really. But...I'm afraid something else has come up."

Rachel's smile fades. Her grip tightens on the hilt of the sabre as she runs a cloth along its edge. "Oh?"

"I need you to sell me the _Two Whales_."

Rachel almost cuts herself. "What did you say? I don't...why would you think I-"

"Rachel. I'm sorry. Really. But..." She closes her eyes. "It's just for a day. Option to buy back at the original price is there. I've only got five marks, but it's more of a loan, than-"

"Nessa." She opens her eyes. Rachel puts the sabre aside. She leans forward, worry in her eyes. "What is this? You sound...scared."

She rubs her brow. "Good. Because I'm terrified. So, I'm keeping on top of my feelings pretty well."

Rachel stares at her for a moment. Then she drags the scroll over and begins to read. "Do you need help? Money? Tell me everything."

She laughs. It sounds strained. "No time. I don't need money. I need the _Two Whales_. Rachel, there's a woman out there who's been marked by a sorcerer. A very stupid, arrogant sorcerer. They made an invitation. They opened the Void. A demon is coming. Here. Very soon. It'll kill her and anyone else in its way. I'm going to stop it."

Rachel stares at her, mouth open. "With...my tavern?"

She shakes her head. "With _my_ tavern." And a lot of luck.

"You're...going to need to give me a quill and ink."

It's her turn to stare with her mouth hanging open. "You believe me?"

She nods. "I'm good at spotting liars. I believe you believe it. If you're insane, I don't lose much. If you aren't..."

"Oh. Okay." She digs in her bag for quill and ink.

* * *

By the time Juliet comes back with a large pot of tea and three cups, the deed's signed and the plan's been made.

Plan is a very generous word.

Juliet puts the tea things down. She looks between them, sensing something's wrong. "Rach-"

"Juliet, I need you to listen to Nessa. Do what she tells you."

"Okay, Rachel, Void take it! What is this?"

She gets up and crosses to the door. "The _Two Whales_ is closing early. Get everyone out." She opens the door wide enough to scan the common room. "Everyone except the three at the far wall. I'll deal with them."

Juliet folds her arms. "No. I don't think so. This is insane, Rachel!"

She looks at Rachel desperately. "Rachel. No time."

Rachel nods. "Juliet. I'll explain everything later. I promise. But for right now, we're doing what Nessa says."

"You're both leaving, too. Just get everyone else out first."

Rachel gets a stubborn look in her eyes. "Now wait a minute-"

That's all she hears before she feels a hand on her arm and she's being yanked out of the doorway and back into the common room. She's dragged round so she's face to face with the tall woman in the green coat.

"Let me go..." Her voice trails off.

The woman stares down at her, shock on her face. Behind her the two blonde women are approaching, one concerned, the other annoyed. The woman gripping her arm hisses, "Is this a trick? Who are you?"

A lot of eyes are on them, now.

Rachel runs into the common room, the sabre in her hand. She says, "Chloe?! What are you doing? Let Nessa go!"

And that name, that voice, changes everything. Everything.

Chloe stares at Rachel, confused. Angry. "Nessa? What the fuck are you talking-"

She says, "Chloe, it's me. It's Max."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! I bet none of you saw THAT com-
> 
> Oh, right. Everyone did.
> 
> Still, that was pretty satisfying to finally get to write!
> 
> Annnd thanks very much for reading!


	11. Blackwell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo...this might not be the chapter you _wanted_ , it might not be the chapter _I_ wanted, but it's the chapter that needed to be written. Bear with me a little longer, we'll get there!

When Kate wakes up, she feels at peace.

True, she's bruised and tender from the exertions of yesterday. And even if it's not immediate, she's still in danger. She has enemies, unknown and numerous, who mean her harm.

That's a worry.

But she knows in her bones that she's walking the path the Gods have set. She, Victoria and...Chloe.

As long as she has Chloe by her side, Kate believes she can face anything.

Kate tells herself that the thrill of excitement that courses through her is only at the prospect of serving the Gods.

A voice that sounds like her mother's whispers in her thoughts, "The Gods are never served by lies."

Kate bites her lip. "I'm not lying," she mumbles.

She takes extra care when she brushes her hair and makes herself ready.

Just to steady her nerves.

* * *

The carriage ride to Blackwell is...nice.

Victoria's next to Kate. Chloe's sprawled out on the seat opposite.

They're quiet, at first, but Kate can sense a warm undercurrent of emotion flowing between...no, _connecting_ , the three of them.

Chloe's recovered from the morning's shocks and, it seems, from yesterday's trials. In her battered old coat and Victoria's expensive clothes she looks odd, but oddly good. With that grin on her lips she looks invincible.

Victoria's the most relaxed Kate's seen her. More than that, she radiates confidence. Taking action, taking _charge_ suits her.

As for Kate...she has two new, unlikely friends. She has a purpose. She is serving the Gods. It's hard to imagine circumstances that could make her happier.

Chloe catches her eye and winks at her. "Ready for some light larceny, Kate?"

Kate laughs. "I think so. I'm not sure I'd make a good criminal, though."

"Well, you looked good with a sword, jumping over rooftops...you're solid buccaneer material, for sure!"

Victoria sighs. "I don't think one of the Chosen should be trying to corrupt a priestess. Maybe you should tell us what to look for in Blackwell, instead?"

"If Hella doesn't like it, She should have Chosen somebody else. Right, Kate?"

Kate shakes her head, smiling. "I can't speak for Hella, Chloe."

"Well, I can! You two should really trust me on this."

Victoria groans. "Well, if you're going to make us into criminals, perhaps you could start training us already?"

"Only because you asked nicely. And _maybe_ because I have to do pretty much everything you tell me."

Kate giggles, Victoria grumbles and hides a smile, and Chloe teaches them the basics of burglary.

* * *

"We're looking for three things. Possible points of entry on the outside. Everything we can figure out about internal security so we can bring the right tools when I go in. And, of course, the location of the goods."

Chloe leans forward. "There's bad news and worse news on that front. Bad news is, some of the information you're looking for? Travel records, identity papers and what not? They should be easy to access once I'm in, but it'll take hours to sort through the records in there. Maybe days. Time I just won't have. So unless you can give me something specific to aim for..."

Kate winces. "There's not much chance of you finding anything useful. And I suppose the same would be true even if we could legitimately gain access to the records."

Chloe nods.

Victoria says, "What's the worse news?"

"Well, the _good_ news is, Wells is likely to keep all his dirty secrets somewhere in his office. Which narrows things down. And, if he has anything on our sorcerer, it'll be in his private stash."

"But?"

Kate thinks she understands. She says, "But we have to find and get into his office. And he'll have his ledgers locked away securely. Maybe hidden. Which makes it hard to find out what sort of tools Chloe will need."

Chloe smiles at her, quirks an eyebrow at Victoria. "See? She's a natural. Basically, unless I get very lucky, I'll need to take a brute force approach. Even if that works out and I get what we need, there's no way Wells isn't going to know something went down. Right after we visit, too. Things could get plenty tough for all of us. Even you, Vic."

Victoria snorts. "That just means it's a challenge. I'll get us into Wells' office this morning. And we'll all keep our eyes open and come up with a plan together."

Chloe shakes her head, grinning. "I know the perfect place for us to plot, too. Hella!" Chloe's expression becomes wistful. "I could get used to working like this."

Kate blurts, "Me, too!" She blushes as the other two stare at her. Chloe smirks. Victoria pretends to be scandalised. But she can feel their excitement, their confidence.

* * *

The carriage drops them off on a cobbled street, outside the main gate.

Blackwell is a red sandstone building that sits on a near perfect square of land. The gate is solid oak, set in a sandstone wall that surrounds the building and its grounds, roughly twenty feet out from the main building. The land it sits on is bordered on three sides by wide, cobbled streets. On its west side, a stream flows downhill, right by the outer wall. The nearest building is the same height as Blackwell and nearly thirty feet away.

The wall is maybe six feet high. Kate thinks even she could get over it with little effort.

Victoria takes a deep breath. "Alright. Let's go."

Chloe grunts, "Wait." She shrugs off her coat and dumps it in the carriage.

Victoria raises an eyebrow.

Chloe shrugs. She murmurs, "You have any idea how much illegal shit I have stashed in that thing? _Now_ we can go." She raises her voice. "Lady Chase, allow me."

Chloe raps her knuckles on the tough oak and steps aside.

The gate is opened by a well-groomed guard. Kate follows the others through the gate, onto a wooden walkway. She gasps when she gets her first good look at what the walls concealed.

Blackwell's grounds aren't extensive, but they are beautiful.

Water flows under the walkway and around the edge of the grounds, making a soothing sound. Rose bushes provide a sweet fragrance. Interspersed amongst the bushes are hedge mazes, no more than two feet high, but each visually distinct and striking.

Kate sees a few tall posts carefully spaced out around the grounds. Elegant lanterns, currently unlit, hang from hooks at the top of the posts.

Once over the walkway, they're onto a gravel path that runs fifteen feet to Blackwell's front doors. It crunches pleasantly underfoot.

Blackwell's doors are aged oak. There are several large windows which allow light into the rooms where the scribes work.

The only obvious security measures Kate can see are the guards. There's one escorting them, two flanking the main door. Kate spots another strolling round the gardens.

It's really peaceful. It's really pretty.

Chloe must see something different. She whispers, "Shit, shit, shit."

So Kate looks again and tries to think like a thief.

Blackwell's main building is set so far back from the street that getting in over the rooftops is impossible. There can be no repeat of last night's athletics.

The lampposts are unobtrusive during the day, but at night those decorative lanterns will light up most of the grounds. Convenient for patrolling guards, not so much for sneaking thieves.

The water is apparently diverted from the nearby stream. It flows through a channel that's been dug around the inside of the wall, as far as the eye can see. Which means that anyone avoiding the main gate and scrambling over the wall faces a nearly ten foot drop. Into cold water. Followed by a climb out of a ditch.

It's the next best thing to a moat.

The rose bushes and the hedges aren't thick or tall enough to provide much cover. But they _do_ create obstacles. If someone got over the wall without drawing attention, the layout of the topiary ensures they'd have to crawl a long way to reach the main building.

While guards are on patrol.

Kate looks around and sees that it's impossible to make a straight run from the wall to the building without running into vegetation with either thorns or the density to trip someone up.

While guards are on patrol.

The only clear route is the path they're walking on. The noisy gravel path.

Which you'd have to walk down while guards are on patrol.

Kate wonders if Chloe even saw a beautiful garden. She whispers, "Oh...dear." She catches Chloe's worried eye.

Kate sighs. "Oh, shit."

* * *

Inside is better. Somewhat.

Kate doesn't really listen to the man escorting them, certainly doesn't listen to Victoria convincing him to take her to see Wells in his office. She trusts Victoria to get the job done.

Instead she tries to get an impression of the place. Tries to soak up any useful details that might help Chloe.

Blackwell's an old stone building, once a house, Kate thinks. It's been repurposed as a workplace for scribes and storage for scrolls and books. There's a hum to the place, the sense of many bodies busy in quiet and productive labour.

The doors Kate sees are old and don't seem to have locks. The ground floor interior walls have been largely demolished to create open workspaces that admit the maximum possible light. There's even a refectory, attached to a kitchen at the back of the house.

And that gives Kate an idea. "Lady Chase?"

Their guide pauses, too polite to express surprise at the daring of Victoria's maid.

"Yes, Kate?" Victoria affects irritation with the ease of long practice.

"I brought some of the herbs to make your favourite tisane. Should I...?"

Victoria sighs. "You really shouldn't have to ask, Kate. Just _do_." She waves her hand and Kate bends her knee and heads for the kitchen.

What she sees when she gets there puts the smile back on her face. She introduces herself to the kitchen staff and sets about preparing a drink for Victoria. She listens to the chatter and she watches everything around her.

* * *

The carriage ride to the docks is tense, at first.

Victoria asks, "How bad is it?"

Chloe sighs. She whips off her bandana and runs her fingers through her hair. Kate tries not to stare, but the colours are mesmerising.

"It's...bad enough. If I can get in, I can get to Wells' office. And I can beat the lock on his door. After _that_ , well...I've got a pretty good idea where to look. So there's that. But..."

Victoria grimaces. " _Can_ you get in?"

"Without killing someone? Or beating the shit out of half a dozen guards? And then however many Ducal Guards who come to investigate the noise..." Chloe slumps. "No. Not in the next few days, anyway."

Kate says, "I think I can help."

They stare at her.

Chloe asks, "How?"

"Well, you didn't see the rear entrance, did you? While you were in Wells' office"

"Which reeked of wine," Victoria observes. "We probably could have ripped the place apart there and then and he wouldn't have protested. If he'd even have noticed."

Chloe snorts. "He was watching me like a hawk, Victoria. You shouldn't underestimate him. He probably got more out of us than we did from our tour. Well...maybe not as much as Kate, though. You were saying?"

"Well, I just thought, that gravel path...those grounds. The front door is for special guests, like Lady Chase. But there's a lot of scribes, guards, kitchen staff...not to mention clerks from the courts, or messengers from the Prescotts. It didn't make sense that there would be only one way in."

Victoria says, "Kate. The point?"

"Oh, well...there's another gate, big enough for a horse and rider. And-"

Chloe grins in understanding. "A stable? Tell me there's a stable!"

"And an outhouse, and a tool shed for the gardeners."

Victoria scowls at them both. She sounds sulky when she asks, "Why is that good?"

Chloe laughs. "Cover! And there can't be as many things lying around to trip people up, not if there's a lot of traffic going that way. If I can get onto the roof of the stable, I can maybe get onto the roof of Blackwell. Way better than going in through the ground floor."

Kate says, "It's still dangerous. The grounds will be lit up, and the guards will be more vigilant at the back. I'd imagine..."

"You're right, but-"

Victoria cuts in, eagerly, "That's their weakness. The guards. Everything is designed to give the guards time to respond to a threat. So while Chloe's getting onto the grounds-"

Kate grins, "We arrange a diversion. Something that will bring the guards to the front."

Victoria nods. "I think I have an idea, if you can find some willing bodies..."

"I can if you've got the silver."

p>Kate frowns. "What about getting you out?"

"Getting caught on the way in ruins things because I need time to snoop. On the way out? It's not ideal, but if it's not so bad if things get noisy."

"It's bad if you get hurt..."

Victoria nods. "No fighting, Chloe. If you get spotted, get yourself out in one piece. Alright?"

"Sure. No unnecessary violence. That works for me, Vic. Just make it a good distraction."

"Oh, I think I can get their attention for long enough."

"I shouldn't need more than a couple of minutes to get in...I'll need rope, silk, for preference. A grappling hook, too. I got a good look at the locks, and Rachel will have the picks I need. I'll need oil, too. Might want a pry bar, just in case... Guys, this could work. We could pull this off!"

All three of them are leaning in, close to each other. All of them grinning again.

There's danger ahead, but that doesn't matter.

They _will_ pull this off. Together, they're unstoppable!

* * *

Residual energy carries them from the carriage, which deposits them near the docks, to Chloe's plotting place, the _Two Whales_ tavern.

As they follow Victoria into the taproom, Chloe nudges Kate. "You know this is one of the best places in the city to look for less than legal work. If you wanted to ditch the priesthood, just come here. You'll probably be running the place inside six months." She cups her hand around the right side of her mouth and stage whispers, "Don't tell Victoria, though. She'll get jealous!"

Kate tries to stifle a giggle, but Victoria's exasperated look sets her off. She quickly covers her mouth.

Chloe strides to the bar and addresses the mountainous hulk slumped on top of it. "Connor! You're looking particularly substantial today. Is that a new stain on your apron?"

Connor grunts, and, with grace afforded by considerable practice, pours three ales.

Chloe leans on the bar. "Is she receiving, Con?"

Kate's not sure, but maybe an eyebrow twitches.

Chloe sighs. "I know, I know. It's important, though. I... _we_ really need to see her. Soon as."

Connor deposits three brimming tankards and makes a quick gesture with his flattened hand. Then he collapses onto the bar, forcing Chloe to snatch the tankards before they get crushed.

Chloe nods at the bartender. "Thanks, Con. We'll take a seat over there."

Chloe winks at Kate and passes her an ale. With her free hand, she gestures towards a table in the far corner. "After you, Kate."

Victoria snorts. "What happened to deferring to me?"

"I'll defer to you later. I'll defer so hard, you'll swear you've never had deferring so good, Vic. You'll never be able to look another deferral in the eye by the time I'm done deferring to you."

Kate has never seen Victoria's face that particular shade before. "If you don't know what a word means-"

Kate spills most of her ale. Covering her mouth would be a futile gesture, so she just gives in to the belly laugh.

Chloe laughs and puts the other two ales on their table. She pulls out a chair for Victoria, with a little bow. "I know what it means. But this is not a good place to be you, Vic. There's all kinds of etiquette in the world. Doesn't just apply to nobles. Here, it's not the done thing to defer to one, okay?"

Before Kate can take a seat, Chloe rushes round and pulls her seat out, too. Maybe it's Kate's imagination, but she thinks Chloe bows deeper than she did for Victoria.

Chloe throws herself into a chair. "So don't be you for a bit. Just be Vic the Vicious, criminal mastermind. Pretend it's a game, and keep everyone guessing. Play it straight, and you give the game away. That's what Rachel says, anyway."

Kate feels a pang in her chest. She studies Chloe as she takes a gulp of ale, keen eyes taking in every detail around them. Kate wonders if that's all this is to Chloe. A game.

But then one bright blue eye closes in a wink, and, behind the rim of her cup, Chloe smiles a smile that's just for Kate.

Victoria coughs, and Kate quickly looks away.

Victoria gestures with her tankard, slopping brown froth onto the table. "This is vile. I don't know how you can drink it."

Chloe takes another hearty swallow. "One sip at a time, Vicky. One sip at a time."

Kate sniffs her mug suspiciously. It doesn't seem appealing. She considers drinking it anyway.

Chloe touches Kate's wrist. "You don't have to drink that. Especially if you're not used to alcohol. When we're done here, tea's on me."

Kate blushes and looks down at the table.

Victoria says, "I take it we're here for more than just cheap booze and quiet talk."

Chloe nods. "My friend, Rachel, operates out of here. She can set us up with gear, and help organise a distraction. Hope you brought some of that good Chase silver with you."

As Victoria grumbles about her expectations of getting a good deal, Kate looks around.

Although it's still early in the afternoon, the tavern is more than half-full. There's quite a mix of people, too, all conversing quietly and keeping their heads down. She wonders how many of them are plotting criminal acts.

Kate wonders how to feel about the fact that she's a criminal plotter, now.

A door in the opposite corner opens and a young woman in a cloak peers around the taproom.

Kate prods Chloe's foot with her toe. "Is that Rachel?"

Victoria turns in her seat to look.

Chloe says, "Hm? Nah, that's..." She freezes.

Chloe tries to put her tankard down, but her gaze is fastened on the strange girl and she lets go a couple of inches too soon. Her tankard tips over, spreading the dregs over the table top.

Victoria jumps at the noise and checks her dress for splash damage.

Kate watches Chloe, alarmed.

Chloe pushes away from the table and swiftly crosses the room. Kate follows her, barely aware of Victoria calling out after her.

Chloe pounces on the smaller woman and pulls her out of the doorway and into the taproom. She's slim. Thin, in fact. She has neat, shoulder-length brown hair, and a tired face with deep shadows under her eyes. It's hard to say how old she is, until her blue eyes widen and she gasps at the sight of Chloe.

In that moment, Kate can see that she's young and, Kate's forced to admit, quite beautiful. It's an oddly painful thought, one she tries to squirm away from.

The next few seconds are confusing. There's yelling and another woman with a sword bursts into the room and then Victoria's beside her demanding to know what's happening.

Kate just watches Chloe. Watches her face change, watches _everything_ change when the other girl says, "Chloe, it's me. It's Max."

Max tries to say something else, but before she can, Chloe engulfs her. "Max! Oh, Hella! Oh, you're alive!"

Kate becomes aware of a feeling that's planted in her heart. A feeling that has spread roots throughout her veins and nerves.

She can't name it, can't comprehend the scope of it, or how it managed to so thoroughly infiltrate her being. But now it writhes and burns within her. It leaves her hollowed of reason.

Kate's reduced, in that moment, to two certainties. One is that Max is part of their purpose. The other is that she has to make Chloe stop touching Max, immediately.

She tells herself that there's only one thing she can do to.

She raises her voice to cut through the confusion of crosstalk. She shouts, shrill and much too loud, "It's her! Victoria, Chloe! _She_ stole Kronus' essence!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as ever, as always, for reading. 
> 
> I appreciate you giving up your time. I do not take it for granted.
> 
> Next time: A necessary digression into how vellum gets made.
> 
> Just kidding! Max and Chloe for reals.
> 
> (But vellum is super interesting. Honest.)


	12. Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, there's some kinda yucky violence towards the end here. Nothing _super_ graphic, but heads up!

Max is here.

Chloe's mind is frozen, but her body obeys an imperative from her subconscious.

She hugs Max. Though 'hug' is a gentle word, and Chloe's anything but as she crashes into her and latches on desperately.

Chloe's dimly aware of other voices, but she only hears Max saying, "Chloe, wait..."

That's all the resistance Max puts up. Her arms suddenly tighten round Chloe's waist. She buries her head in Chloe's chest. Max chokes, gasps out, "I've missed you so, so much."

And everything is still a long way from right. But it's the best it's been since her mother died.

* * *

Chloe's not surprised that she and Max don't get just one fucking minute. That's never been the world she's lived in, even if it took her fourteen years to see the truth of it.

Chloe _is_ surprised that Kate's the one to break the peace.

Kate's voice is strange and shrill when she shouts, "It's her! Victoria, Chloe! _She_ stole Kronus' essence!"

Chloe wants to laugh, and say, "No, look. This is _Max_. She stole a pie from my mother once, and she cried for two hours straight after she felt guilty and returned it. Max isn't a thief. And Max _can't_ be the one carrying the King's lost essence. There's no way."

What she does, though, is put herself between Max and the others and say, "Back off, Kate. All of you!"

Kate's face is red, strained, unrecognisable. She's shaking and her fists are clenched.

Rachel's holding Chloe's sabre. She looks ridiculous. She looks...nervous.

It's wrong. Both of them look wrong.

Chloe feels a sour wash of adrenaline in her stomach. There's a threat here, even if she can't see it. She isn't sure what to do yet. All she knows is that Max is her new priority. Chloe will not let anything bad happen to her. Not again.

Max tries to edge round Chloe. Her voice still sounds watery when she says, "I haven't stolen anything. And everyone's in danger-"

Victoria appears calm, even as she cuts Max off. She asks Kate, "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! She's the one! We have to...we have to stop her. Take her! Now!"

Rachel hisses, "Shut up! You're making a scene! Chloe, get Nessa into the back."

Chloe feels sudden fury. "Void take you, Rachel. How long have you known Max was in Arcadia? How long have you been lying to me?"

Behind her, Max says, "Chloe, stop! Listen to me-"

But Rachel's in Chloe's face now. "What? How could you think I was...fuck you, Chloe! You've always been ungrateful! I do so much for you-"

Victoria still seems calm, even as she draws a knife from from under her skirt and presses the point of it into Rachel's side.

She sounds downright bored when she says, "Drop the sword. And Chloe? Get out of the way. We're taking Max, and we're leaving."

Chloe snarls, "Fuck that!"

The pressure in her head sends waves of pain through her nerves and pours lead into her bones. Chloe drops to her knees, blind and barely able to breathe.

Victoria's voice is ice. "That wasn't a suggestion, vassal."

Chloe wants to fight. She wants to resist. But her body is an abstract thing, a luxurious concept that has no bearing on the reality of her pain.

She still knows it when a hand touches her back. Max's touch can still reach her. Her voice is firmer. "Chloe. Do as she says. It's okay."

Chloe lets out a sob and heaves herself to the side. All at once, the torment is over. She grabs a chair back and, after a couple of false starts, hauls herself upright. She leans heavily on the chair.

Max is in the middle of them all now. Kate is watching Chloe try to pull herself together. Victoria's still threatening Rachel, who seems to be calculating the odds of breaking loose without getting knifed. Rachel still has Chloe's sword, her fingers too tight on the hilt.

Juliet's peering round the door to the back room. Her hands are out of sight. Chloe wonders what kind of weapon she's holding.

The rest of the tavern is enacting street etiquette. Those with no particular stake in the action are watching, looking for anything they can use to their advantage. Those who don't want a run-in with the guard are slipping away. There are a few here who owe Rachel. They're on their feet, drifting closer, looking for a chance to intervene.

Chloe knows Connor's got a crossbow under the bar. For all his bulk and seeming indolence, he's quick enough. He's fond of Rachel, too.

Walking out won't be easy. And Chloe doesn't want trouble with these people. She can feel sweat on her brow. Her stomach wounds twinge.

"Victoria, listen. Let's all just calm down before this gets ugly..."

Victoria gives Chloe a glare. Under the seeming calm, something screams in her eyes. "You know why we have to do this. Now, stop trying to shirk your duties for _once_ and grab-"

Rachel hisses, "I won't forget this, Chloe! You're picking the wrong side-"

"Let Rachel go!" Juliet comes out from behing the door, a poker in her hands.

She's every bit as frightened as she is determined. With shaking hands she tries to menace Victoria with the heavy iron. At least she didn't grab any of the blades Rachel's got stashed back there. In her current condition, Juliet's more likely to cut herself than anyone else.

Chloe raises her hands. "Hey, Jules. Put that down. Victoria, please...look around. This is not going to end well-"

Kate says, "You swore, Chloe! Your oath means more than this...this... _witch_!" She points a shaking finger at Max. 

Max snaps, "I'm not a witch!"

There's a click and a thud as Connor cocks his crossbow and steadies it on the end of the bar. He doesn't say anything, but several more people decide to head out the front door.

Chloe realises that the bolt's pointed at her. "Con, no," she whispers, hurt more than she thought possible by the big man turning on her.

Victoria looks around the bar, eyes wide. "We're leaving. I'll kill her, if I have to! I'll-"

"Shut up. All of you. There will be no blood spilled here."

Max's voice isn't loud, but there's an undeniable quality to it.

It cuts through the tension that's thickened to a strangling degree. Connor blinks, and the crossbow's aimed away from Chloe. Juliet lowers the poker. Around the bar, hands move away from weapons and postures ease.

Max raises her hand when Victoria rounds on her. "Peace. I'll come with you. Okay? Rachel, put the sword down. And you, please. Put down the knife. Everyone, be calm. There's no need for a misunderstanding to lead to anything worse."

They do it. Reluctantly. Victoria and Rachel back away from each other. They dump their blades on the nearest tables.

For a moment, it seems as though calm might yet be realised.

Until Kate starts shrieking.

"Why are we listening to her? We can't trust her! Why did she hide? While things in Elysium fell apart, where were you _Max_? For five years! Do you know how much blood is on your hands? How much more death is coming? Thief! Murderer!"

Rachel slaps her.

Kate staggers back, clutching her cheek.

Chloe moves forward, then stops, confused. She isn't sure why anything is happening the way it is. Her instincts scream at her to take action. But she has no idea what she should do.

Max sighs. "Rachel, enough. Kate can't help it. The demon's close. It's affecting us all."

Chloe's voice only shakes slightly as she says, "Demon? Max, what are you talking about?"

"The Gods' Laws have been broken. A sorcerer brought a demon through Engramma's Seal. Targeting her." Max points at Victoria.

That's a lot to process. Chloe looks at the others while she's trying to think of how to reply.

Rachel doesn't seem surprised. In fact, Rachel seems to be very familiar with Max. Chloe's nails dig into her palms as she tries to keep the anger in.

Kate's just clutching her cheek and staring into space. Victoria shoots a look of disgust at Chloe. She puts an arm around Kate.

Victoria says, "Who is this...person, Chloe? What is she talking about?"

Rachel snorts. "She's doing all this to save you. Stop being an asshole and listen to her."

Victoria bristles.

Max says, "Rachel! We need to move everyone out of here. Can you get on that? Please?"

Rachel shakes herself. "Well, since you asked so nicely...Max. Juliet! Give me a hand. Connor! Max is in charge, now. She says the bar's closed."

Chloe gapes as Rachel, _Rachel_ , sweeps off to start ushering patrons out. Juliet shrugs helplessly at Chloe as she goes to work, too.

"Max...what happened to you?"

Max says, "Too much. I want to tell you, but I don't have time. I need you to trust me, Chlo. I need you to believe me."

Victoria says, "Well I don't believe you. We're not following your orders. You're going to follow-"

"IF!" It seems Max can do loud, when she wants to. "If. If I hadn't sworn a vow, I would leave you to your fate. You put Chloe in danger. You _hurt_...no. The Void is going to take all of us if we don't take action. There's a narrow path I can walk to save you, and you are trying to pull me from it. So shut up if you want to live."

Max gives each of them a hard look.

"Think! Are any of you behaving rationally? Is this normal, for any of you? This anger, this fear you're feeling...There is a demon loose in the world. It's near. It's affecting everyone close to you, Victoria."

Victoria looks shaken, but she tries a sneer. "You're insane. Engramma-"

"Your fear won't change the situation. Neither will your ignorance." Max stares her down. "There are Laws for all things. Laws we must obey."

Max picks up a tankard. "Watch."

She lets go, and the tankard falls, spilling ale across the worn floor boards.

Chloe inches a little closer to Max. "Uh...what are we looking for?"

Her question brings a tiny smile to Max's lips.

"You saw it. The Law of the Gods. Things fall down. Right?"

Max sweeps them all with a look. They're all confused, but they're listening. Even Kate, huddled into Victoria's side, is paying attention.

Max nods. "The Gods made those Laws for us. They never applied to the demons, which is why they were so dangerous. But there are also _people_ who can bend the laws, or break them. People who can make things fall up. People who use magic."

Chloe snaps her head round and looks at Victoria. "Someone like a sorcerer. Like the sorcerer we're supposed to be hunting."

Victoria frowns, and shakes her head. "That's a long way from _demons_..."

"Not...maybe not..."

It's Kate. She pulls away from Victoria. She hugs herself and looks down at her feet. "There are...rituals...in the priesthood. Engramma left ways to...open a path through the Void. The Seal isn't perfect..."

"Engramma's Seal was designed to allow travel through it. There are very strict Laws that control that sort of movement. Priestly rituals follow the Gods' Laws."

Kate's trembling and pale. "I don't...I feel bad."

Max's expression softens. "You'll feel it the most. You're a sensitive. That's how you knew about the thing in my head. Kronus' essence?"

Kate nods.

Chloe blurts, "That's bullshit! Max, you're not...you can't be mixed up in this shit, too!"

Max sighs. "I wish that it didn't make sense. But it does. It'll have to wait, though."

"No," says Victoria. Not as sharp as before, but still cutting. "We need to know about Kronus' essence. Kate's right. Your lies are getting on my nerves. Where have you been-"

"A thrall in the Northlands. I've been in Arcadia less than a month. I knew there was something wrong with me, but I wasn't sure...well. Now shut up, Victoria. You're not being useful."

"You've been a _slave_? All this time...Max!"

Max takes Chloe's hand, just like she always used to. But now she's giving comfort, not drawing strength. "Chlo. I'm sorry, but-"

"Right." It takes real effort to push it aside. "I'm not being useful. What do we need to do?"

Max's sudden smile, her real smile, is all Chloe needs. For now, at least. She's steady again.

Max turns back to the others. The _Two Whales_ is beginning to empty at last, twenty or so people beginning to make their way to the door. Rachel comes back to them. Juliet and Con are still watching from the bar.

Max takes a deep breath. "Alright. Kate said ritual, earlier. Maybe a better way of thinking about it is in terms of a contract. When a priest invokes Engramma's ritual, the contract puts serious limits on what the demon can do. It sets the period of time that the demon can stay in our world."

Rachel raises her hand. "Um. _Any_ priest can bring demons into the world? What?"

Kate shakes her head. "I-I think it takes a priest with knowledge of the ritual, and at least one of the blessed to even make it possible. I read about it, but I couldn't do it. That sort of knowledge is for high priests."

Chloe asks, "Then how do we know it's not a priest?"

Kate winces and looks away.

Max shrugs. "Well, we don't. But I _do_ know that using a demon as an assassin is not part of the limits set by the Seal. A priest following Engramma's ritual couldn't violate the Laws that way. It just wouldn't let the demon through. But if they used magic...sorcerers don't have to follow the rules. They still make contracts, but...they're kinda...exploiting loopholes in Engramma's Seal. Our sorcerer lets the demon run loose in the world for a while. In exchange, it kills Victoria. The demon has to obey all the rules of the contract, but _only_ those rules."

Rachel frowns. "So...Victoria's the target, and when she's dead...the demon gets sent back to the Void?"

Max nods. "But in the meantime, we're all at the mercy of the sorcerer's stupidity."

Chloe's eyes widen. "Because the only limits on the demon's power are imposed by the sorcerer's contract. Hella! That does not sound good."

Victoria says, "Why are we talking about this? She's insane. This is insane."

Kate touches Victoria's arm, causing her to jump. "Wait, Victoria. I...I feel...something. Something _wrong_..."

Max sucks in a breath. "We've got minutes at most. Listen. Demons can ignore most of the Laws that bind us. They don't have to fall down. Or breathe. Or eat. But even though a sorcerer can exploit Engramma's Seal, the demon is still bound. By the Seal and by its own Laws. If the demon breaches its contract, or breaks the wrong Law, the Seal will send it back to the Void. In pieces. The demon is vulnerable, but only to the right kind of attack."

Victoria laughs. "And you just so happen to be an expert on demons? You really expect me to believe any of this shit? I'm Lady Victoria Chase, not some ignorant fucking savage-"

Chloe's glad she's only on the edge of Max's vision. Because the excess heat of the glare she directs at Victoria makes even Chloe want to take a step back.

Victoria does retreat from the smaller woman.

Max says, "I am not an expert on demons. I am an expert on law. On _all_ of the Laws. Of humanity. Of Gods. Of demons. You're a Chase? With Aram the Just's essence in your veins? Then _hear_ me. Without Law, there is no Justice. And I'm the one who guards the Laws. I am Engramma's _other_ legacy."

Max pauses, seems to wrestle with something vast inside her. She sighs. "I'm the Lawspeaker."

And while none of that means anything to Chloe, it must mean something to Victoria. Max's words strip all the arrogance from her, leaving a frightened girl in their place.

"You're...telling the truth. Someone sent a demon. For _me_?"

Max nods. "Yes. Kronus's essence...sensed it. It warned me. I'm going to try to stop it, Victoria. I need you here with me, though. You need to be close, but stay behind me. Okay? Everybody else get out, or into the back room. Now."

Chloe snorts. She jabs a thumb at Victoria. "I'm her oathbound bodyguard. I can't leave her. And I won't leave you, Max. Who knows where you might run off to this time?"

Max hesitates, but another smile makes it clear which way she's going to fall. "Alright. But, Chloe. You stay behind me. No matter what. I mean it."

Chloe's stunned when Rachel steps up to Max and says, "I'm staying, too. This is even more exciting than forgery!"

Chloe glares at Rachel, who stares back, defiant.

Chloe growls, "Juliet! Connor! Grab Kate, and get in the back. Please."

A man's voice drawls, "Nessa. You appear to be in some difficulty."

A tall clansman forces his way into the tavern, pushing back against the last of the leavers. His tone is mild, but his eyes are hard. There's a knife in his hand.

Max looks suddenly uncertain. "Ulfar...go with the others."

Ulfar says, "Step away from Nessa. All of you."

Chloe feels the imminence of violence in the air. She grins. Something simple, at last. "Hey, clansman. You're terrible at making threats. Which isn't surprising, I suppose, since you have to use so much valuable thinking time enslaving young women. Like my best friend here?"

Ulfar focuses his attention on Chloe. "Volva. Get out."

"Chloe, stop! Ulfar, I'm not-"

The wall around the _Two Whales'_ front door explodes.

Chunks of wood, from whole timbers to splinters, are blasted into the tavern by an impossible force.

Ulfar's lucky. A piece of the door hits him in the back and sends him crashing to the floor.

The half-dozen people in or near the doorway are less fortunate. Chunks of timber crush bones. Slivers of wood hit flesh like a hail of arrows.

Chloe moves long before the screaming starts.

She trips Max, foot behind her feet, hand to the shoulder and _down_. Rachel gets a quick shove in passing, towards the back room. Chloe grabs Victoria, whirls around and shuffles over to try to obscure Kate, too. Chloe lowers her head and clings on tight to Victoria, using her body to shield Victoria and Kate as much as possible.

They're thirty feet from what used to be the door. Bits of wood still pelt Chloe's back with stinging force. Something heavy clips her left shoulder, numbing her arm.

Then there's just the soft patter of blood and tiny pieces of wood. Just the hoarse cries of agony, and the sobs of fear. Victoria whimpering in her arms, Chloe's breath harsh and unreal in the emerging stillness.

Max is still on the floor, dazed but breathing. Rachel didn't make it through the door. She's sprawled in the doorway, a sliver of wood lodged in her thigh.

"Hella! What-"

Chloe watches Kate, somehow unscathed, as the blood drains from her face.

She doesn't quite hear it. It's not quite a real world senses situation. Chloe just...knows, when the demon enters the taproom behind her.

* * *

Her left arm's fucked, but her right is working just fine. She lets go of Victoria, gives her a nudge towards Kate.

"Vic. Get Max and Kate out. Get them all out."

Chloe doesn't wait to see if she does it. She turns and snatches her sabre. In spite of every nerve in her body's protest, she runs towards the thing from the Void.

* * *

Chloe never sees it. Not entirely. She sees iridescent tentacles, sinuous but clothed in stiff, shimmering flesh that's more like otherworldly pottery than skin. There's half a dozen of them probing the ragged wound that was the _Two Whales'_ frontage.

One whips towards Chloe as she nears the mess of bodies and debris littering the entrance.

Chloe swings her sabre at it. Her blade doesn't bite, so much as meet mild resistance. It shears the top foot or so of the tentacle off. It's almost like cutting through water, though water doesn't bleed anguish.

That's what it feels like, when the blade parts the demon's substance. Like reliving all the lowest points in Chloe's life in the span of a second. It overwhelms her, robs her limbs of strength and her mind of will.

Just for a second.

That's all the time it takes for a glimmering limb to push itself into Chloe's chest.

It doesn't feel like getting hit or stabbed. It doesn't feel like much of anything, at first. Just a weird tingling and when she looks down, there's a demon tendril projecting from her sternum.

She blinks, and two more are in her belly. She can smell a strange smell: cinnamon and corruption. Fresh grass and dead rats under the floorboards. She can smell burning flesh, and...oh.

Smoke wisps up around the tendrils.

It's her flesh she can smell burning.

That's when the pain comes.

There's a wriggle of tension in the things in her body as she's lifted off her feet. She feels the demon tense and flex and...

Chloe is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I've got a busy week ahead and a whole other thing to finish. So it might be a week or more for the next chapter. 
> 
> Sorry! 
> 
> I'm not sure if it's quite the right sentiment to say 'hope you enjoyed', so let's just go with: Thanks for reading!
> 
> And please do leave a comment, if you're so inclined! All feedback and criticism is very welcome.


	13. Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to keep you waiting!
> 
> And that this one's a bit shorter than average. 
> 
> And that this one is...kinda abstract, at times? I hope it all makes sense. 
> 
> I hope you like it.

Max doesn't see exactly what happens from her position on the floor. She's winded from landing awkwardly.

But she hears the screams, and she sees Chloe rush headlong into danger.

As she struggles to her hands and knees, she hears Chloe make a strange, choked gasp.

Max looks up in time to see Chloe's body lifted into the air. She hangs suspended for a moment, pierced by three of the demon's limbs. Before Max can stand, speak, do _anything_ , the tentacles writhe and Chloe is flung nearly the length of the tavern.

She smashes into Victoria, knocking her down and pinning her to the floor.

Smoke curls out of the wounds in her chest and stomach.

Chloe, who befriended a shy girl so many years ago. Who was that girl's best and only real friend. Who was giddy laughter, and stupid dares, and playing at pirates, and shared warmth in winter, and summer in her smile, and an ocean in her eyes. Who has been the secret hope in the last refuge of her mind these last five years. Who she found a way back to Arcadia for, who she was going to risk getting into Blackwell for, who she has lived to see again.

Chloe looks dead.

There's pressure in Max's skull, Kronus' essence trying to make her do...something.

Rachel's hurt. Kate's just standing there, walled off from the world by shock. Juliet is screaming. Ulfar is unconscious. Other people, people she doesn't know, people she failed to protect, are dying, dead.

The demon comes into the bar.

Its indistinct form pulses with light.

It's body is conical. Or maybe convex. It's carapace is irridescent, like the tentacles that sprout from its...shoulders? It has legs. Spindly, oddly jointed legs, that couldn't possibly support its weight.

It has a mouth, with bony ridges in place of teeth, that twitches and gnashes in a stuttering, faltering rhythm.

It smells like agony and cat fur. It sounds like a sea breeze and a migraine. It _thrusts_ thoughts at them. No, feelings. No...anti-thoughts and the rotten stump of feelings long ago felled by a lumberjack's indifferent axe.

It is an invader, of every space within and without a person.

And Max was an arrogant fool to think that she could have stopped this. All she's done is get Chloe killed. Rachel, too, and who knows how many others. Max can at least be assured that she'll be among the dead, not left to endure the bitter failure for however many days she might once have hoped for.

Max lowers her head and waits for the inevitable.

Chloe takes an awful, rasping breath.

Max whips around. Chloe's unconscious, and she looks...bad. But she's breathing.

She's alive.

Max slowly stands up.

The demon makes its way into the room with fussy little steps. Its many limbs reach out, touching walls, tables, floor, ceiling, mugs of ale, blood, bodies. It's touch lingers on the bodies.

It reaches towards Juliet, frozen at the bar, and Connor, slumped bloodily across it, victim of some piece of debris.

There's a painful increase in the pressure in Max's head, almost drowned beneath an obliterating wave of self-loathing.

Max snarls, "No."

No to the thing in her head: Kronus' essence.

No to anyone else getting hurt.

No to the demon

No to the whole fucking world.

No to Chloe dying.

"NO!"

The pressure in her head recedes, but she dives after it. She drags it back to the forefront of her mind. She thinks to it, "I've let you guide me. I've brought you here, which is what you've always wanted, isn't it? I've written laws and documents to please you. I've been your unwitting servant all this time. But I was never meant to have you. I've been wronged by you. You _owe_ me. And you're going to start paying up."

The pressure doesn't go, but it stops crushing. It becomes a gathering tension. It begins to coil, getting ready to strike. Until it's no longer pressure, but power. And it is, for the time being, hers.

Max balls her hands into fists. She turns to face the invader. She straightens up, and lifts her chin. She says, "Stop! You are trespassing on my domain. I will _not_ allow it. Until you state your name and business, I bind you."

* * *

When the Gods made the world and everything in it, They used the only available resource to do it. They used Themselves. Their essence, infused with Their will, gave shape to all things.

So even in those who aren't blessed, even in something so seemingly trivial as a mug of ale, there's a piece of the divine. It doesn't grant powers, as the essence gifted to the Chosen does. It gives everything its _shape_ , makes everything conform to the Laws that make the sun rise and set and all things live and bloom and fade and die.

The demons come from outside this creation of the Gods, and so the Laws don't apply to them in quite the same ways. But just as the demon in the _Two Whales_ projects its wrongness, its otherness, to everything around it, so too does the power of the Gods resist and remind all things of the shape that they should have. Of how all things should be.

So even a demon that has been freed from Engramma's constraints by a sorcerer, that can ignore the Laws of the world, can still be baulked by someone who knows how to rally the power of the Gods inherent in all things.

Someone like the Lawspeaker.

It's a truth Max has found convenient to ignore in the face of Snorri's hostility to the idea, but Ref is retired. The mantle of Lawspeaker passed to her just before she left the Northlands.

Now she'll find out if she's truly worthy of it.

* * *

The demon is a hurricane, a sandstorm, a raging, obliterating fog. It stalks towards her on its spindly legs and gnashes its mouth and drives spikes of self-nulling doubt into Max's brain.

Max stands firm. Her voice is a ragged, patchwork thing, but she says, "I am the owner of this establishment. I have the right to bar entry to anyone who tries to cross the threshold. I bar you. I bind you. Stop!"

Max is no sensitive, but she feels it when the demon runs into the little law she's invoked. When it tries to push through, ignore her words, destroy her, and the divine remnant in every timber of the tavern, in every patron, in every mug, chair, table, liquid, crumb of food, stirs and stamps _reality_ upon the building. She feels it in the weakening of the demon's attack, the faltering of its footsteps, the sudden wariness that enters its stance.

"That's right." Her voice is stronger now, thrumming with rage. "You thought you could do what you want in this world? You thought you'd come here and play? You thought you could wreak havoc in _my_ tavern? You thought there were none here who knew the Laws? You're wrong. Name yourself. State your purpose. Or I'll make you regret this day."

It stops. It considers. It makes no answer. Its tentacles begin to stretch and slither in a dozen different directions, seeking purchase. Seeking leverage against reality itself. It strains against her will, and she knows that she can't hold it.

Not for long.

Kronus' essence stirs, but she quiets it. She'll not use that power unless she has to.

Ref taught Max many things. Not just Law, but genealogy. The names and relationships of the people of the Northlands. And of the Gods.

And demons.

"Okay, then. If you won't tell me your name freely, then I'll tell you. Avaradun. I name you. I know you. Avaradun."

Avaradun freezes. Its mouth hangs open. She feels the weight of its consideration fall upon her, the change in status accorded her. No longer an amusement or even an obstacle.

She's a threat.

"That's right. I know you, Avaradun. But _you_ didn't know that you'd broken into the domain of the Lawspeaker, did you? You don't yet understand how _fucked_ you are. Are you sure you want to keep going down this path with me?"

Avaradun retreats a pace. Its tentacles retract. Its assault on her mind doesn't cease, but it diminishes. It watches her. It waits.

Max nods. "Better. But there's a lot more you're going to have to do before we're close to being on cordial terms. Now. Your business here?"

It's not exactly speech, what Avaradun does. But it conveys understanding, along with a fresh wave of head pain.

It's here to _take_ Victoria, not kill her. But...Avaradun is here to kill Chloe. And Avaradun believes that job near enough done.

At first, Max is confused. But it begins to make sense when she realises that Chloe and Victoria are oathbound. They're linked, bonded by the essence granted them by the Gods.

If Chloe is the demon's true target...

Max bows her head. She makes a wall inside herself and puts her feelings for Chloe behind it. It doesn't seem to leave much, on the other side of the wall.

She says, "How long do you have here, Avaradun? Hm? Before the sorcerer's spell runs out? And how long can I hold you back? Long enough to make you fail to complete your contract, do you think?"

Avaradun is still wary, but there's a hint of derision in the thought pulse it sends to her, something mocking in the way it sculpts its body into a sleeker shape, its tentacles to finer points.

"You want to take that risk? We both know how that ends for you, if you're wrong. If you don't complete you contract in time, Engramma's Seal will take you back to the Void. It won't be a fun trip. How much of Avaradun, Wind Dancer, will be left after that? Not enough to survive crossing into this world again. Not enough to survive long in the Void, I'd guess."

Names make Avaradun nervous, more than Max's threats. It makes sense. Names shape things, after all. And Avaradun's form ripples and writhes in defiance of fixed shape. In defiance of every Law of the Gods that all the mortals in the tavern must obey.

Max glances at Juliet, crouched at the bar. She's crying, but she's alert enough. Max manages to catch her eye and crooks a finger. _Come here_. She turns her focus back to Avaradun.

The demon shifts, its odd, skinny legs distorting the floorboards wherever its...paws touch. It seems to be weighing its odds.

Max says, "Kate? Rachel?" She doesn't look back.

There's the sound of a body shifting and a hiss of pain. Rachel says, "Aaah! I'm here. My leg's pretty bad, but I'm here. Kate? Kate, snap out of it. Max needs us."

"Rachel, I need you to do what you can for C-Chloe. Keep her breathing. Okay?"

Max hears Rachel grunt and start to drag herself across the floor. As she does, she says, "Of course, Max. Kate? Don't make me slap you again, girl. I'd have to stand up, and that'll hurt, and then I'll hit you _so_ hard. And that'll hurt both of us. So, why not help me out instead? Huh? Come on, I need help with Chloe, here."

Max hears Kate stir, and mumble, "Chloe?"

Avaradun lunges towards them, tentacles whipping. Max gasps as the assault on her mind renews and as the floorboards twist and splinter. She hears Kate shriek, and Rachel cry out. She feels the air itself congeal, oozing sweatily into her lungs and leaving the taste of sour milk on her tongue.

Max says, "Stop! The things of my realm obey the Gods' Laws, not yours, Avaradun."

Avaradun's efforts increase, frustration leaking into its thoughts as Victoria and Chloe stay just out of reach. Reality begins to reassert itself.

Too slowly.

Max's heart is pounding, her breathing is ragged. Kronus' essence stirs within her and presents its power to her. The power to fight back, to strike against the demon. Max reaches for the essence inside her. She raises her right hand and...

She hears Ref's voice. It's an echo of another time, of a lesson by lamplight.

"Power is an odd thing, so often ill defined for all that people crave it. Power, in the crudest sense, is just a kind of fuel."

She can see him, so clearly, as he gestures to the oil lamp.

"Power is only defined in its _use_. And to use power, to shape the world, requires will, purpose, and _community_. Communities are formed by people, in service to a purpose, and led by those with the will to direct that purpose. Whether that purpose is to survive the winter or build a great city of stone."

Avaradun seems to swell and grow, the light it emits is searing. The tables near the demon char and smoulder.

Juliet crawls towards Max, beneath a whipping tentacle, sobbing and screaming.

Max can hear Rachel, and Kate, and other sounds, all diminished. The tavern seems to tilt, threatening to collapse rather than suffer the continued presence of the demon.

Kronus' essence tries to squeeze her mind, to force her to release it.

Max can't hear Ref's voice anymore, but she doesn't need to. She remembers that night very well.

Max whispers, "Communities are made by people, but maintained by law. And the law is meant to serve _everyone_. To use power requires many things. Intelligence is not one of them. To use the law, to serve it, to make it serve the needs of the community, not the will of the powerful, _demands_ intelligence. Think. Never act without weighing the consequences, short and long."

As she speaks, her heart slows. Her mind clears. Her will sharpens as she remembers her purpose. She is not here to fight, as Gods and their champions battled demons in the past. She is here to defend the community. She is the Lawspeaker.

(And behind her wall, where she keeps her love beyond Avaradun's reach, she shapes another purpose.)

Max whispers, "Enough."

Avaradun reels back. Reality recomposes itself. But the tavern is that much worse damaged. And, no doubt, the people in it, too.

Juliet reaches her side and collapses, whimpering.

Avaradun hunkers down and stretches out. She can sense the shape of its thought. Perhaps she can thwart it, for long enough. But she can't hold it here, and Avaradun can do a lot of damage out in the city, where she has no hope of stopping it.

Kronus' essence flares and tries to make her lash out. But she's still in control, for now.

It's her choice.

Max lowers her arm. She takes a deep breath. She says, "Avaradun. There's no reason we can't reach a compromise. Let's make a deal for Victoria, shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much for reading!
> 
> Please do share your thoughts, criticisms, or witticisms. 
> 
> I will have the next part for you Monday the 17th. That is a pinky promise.


	14. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still technically Monday. 
> 
> My pinky promise is _totes_ intact.

To Kate, being near the demon is like being in a blizzard. It smothers everything around her, not only obscuring sight and sound, but rendering her normal frame of reference useless.

Kate's not sure if it's Rachel's touch that brings her back, or the sound of Chloe's name. But when she emerges from the haze, she's at first dizzied by a cacophony of colours, dazzled by a jumble of sounds. 

For a moment she fears that something else in her has broken. Before she can question that 'else', the scene before her resolves itself. 

Kate's throat hurts. She squints against the brightness.

The demon is the cause of most of the light. Its body emits it.

But Kate's sensitivity to the hidden energies of the world seems to have been pushed to the brink of allergy. She is able to see the vortices of corruption spiralling from the demon, directing the body and limbs it wears, and travelling outwards, tearing at the seams of the Gods' creation.

And Kate can also see, with a clarity she's never known, the power of the Gods resisting the demon's influence. Everything in the tavern, even the air, disrupts and ensnares the demon's influence, limiting it, blocking it.

Kate supposes that this is what Max meant, by the Laws of the Gods: the rules of creation that put an ache in hard used muscles, hunger in the belly, a hitch in the breath of a girl in love seeing her beloved...

And something else is clear, something easier to understand than Kate's own thoughts: Max possesses the essence of Kronus, but she isn't using it to fight the demon.

Max is instead forcing the demon to engage with a reality it usually ignores, seemingly through sheer force of will.

And she's losing.

As she watches the demon lash at reality, held back by a skinny girl and the failing power of the Gods, she realises that her throat hurts because she's screaming.

Absently, she stops.

Beside her, gripping her leg, Rachel is yelling, "Kate! Kate, please! I need your help. Chloe needs you!"

It's difficult, making her voice work, but she manages it. It rasps when she says, "Chloe? O-of course...I'll..."

She looks down at Rachel. She's on the floor, awkward with one leg stretched out. There's no splinter, but a _dagger_ of timber, lodged in her left thigh. She's bleeding, and in pain, but she looks relieved when Kate starts paying attention.

Rachel tugs at Kate's skirt and Kate turns away from the demon.

That's more difficult than she would have thought possible. She doesn't want to look at it, doesn't want ever to have seen it, but looking away feels...wrong.

Until she sees the bodies on the floor, and finds more of herself snapping into focus.

Chloe is splayed across Victoria. Both are unconscious. Victoria has a bruise on her cheek, but Chloe...

There are three terrible wounds in her chest and stomach. There's not much blood, but that's no real mercy. Around the wounds her flesh is seared and scarred.

It's doubtful any but a Chosen would have survived this long.

Without help, it's certain Chloe won't survive much longer.

"Help me move her."

Kate's voice isn't steady, but purpose gets her moving.

So as the demon rages behind her, and she hears Max groan with strain, Kate and Rachel go to work rolling Chloe off of Victoria.

Rachel stares at Chloe's wounds, beauty scrubbed from her face by horror. Rachel mumbles, "Come on, Chloe. You're tough. Toughest person I know. This...you can't..."

Kate leaves her for a moment, to check on Victoria.

There's a bruise on her cheek, and she's out cold. But she's breathing steadily and a careful inspection reveals no swelling or bleeding on the back of her head. Kate rolls her onto her side. Victoria might wake up with a headache and an unsightly bruise, but if she sleeps through the demon, then that's a small price to pay.

Kate loses a few seconds to that mistake, letting...it...cross her mind. The power it throws out in its assault against Max, against the _world_ , fascinates her. It pulls at her senses, and threatens to absorb her unless Kate shuts it out completely.

Kate thinks about Chloe. Chloe needs help. She shrinks her personal world to that thought and returns to Chloe's side, bent double as if fighting against a gale.

Rachel says, "There's a kit in the chest in the back room. I'd go, but..." She gestures to her leg.

"I don't think that'll do much good, Rachel. Not with wounds like these. Do you have a kitchen here?"

Rachel blinks. "Uh, yes? Over there."

A narrow door, over in the corner, mercifully away from the demon.

"Alright. I'll be quick as I can. Just...watch her."

Rachel grits her perfect teeth. "Right. Great. I'll just...be here, then."

* * *

It doesn't take Kate long to find what she needs.

A kettle which she fills with water from a barrel.

Salt, in a sack on a not too tall shelf.

A large, sharp, and clean knife.

She dumps salt liberally into the water.

She uses the knife to make a shallow cut in her forearm, and lets a few drops of her blood drip into the kettle.

She wipes the knife on a cloth, uses a clean towel to bind the cut. She takes the kettle and the knife and hurries back to the taproom.

* * *

The atmosphere is different when Kate gets back.

Avaradun still wriggles and snaps in the middle of the taproom. But open assault has been replaced with covert tension. A subtler combat is taking place, it would seem.

Max addresses the demon, her voice quieter, but no less fierce than before.

Juliet has curled up into a ball near Max's feet.

Kate wrenches her gaze from the demon and quickly crosses to Chloe. She puts the kettle down and kneels beside Chloe.

Rachel's stripped off her tunic, Kate can't quite avoid noticing. She's got Chloe's head propped up on her wadded up clothes, and is gripping Chloe's left hand.

She's mostly watching Max, though. Kate notices that, too.

Rachel looks at her when she uses the knife to cut away Chloe's ruined doublet.

Rachel must have a lovely, musical voice, normally. Even through the strain, Kate can still catch hints of music when Rachel asks, "What are you going to do?"

"The only thing I can. Pray."

"That's...less of a plan than I expected." Rachel bites her lip. "She's dying, Kate. Isn't there something...?"

Kate snaps, "I'm surprised you care, given the way you threatened her."

Rachel glares at her, opens her mouth, and...pauses. She says, softly, "We've got our differences. I'd like a chance to discuss them with her, though. She's my friend."

"Then be quiet and let me work."

It shouldn't be satisfying, the way Rachel gapes at her, lost for words. But it is.

"Hold her down. This might...get a reaction."

Rachel presses her hands down on Chloe's shoulders, giving no more protest than a single nervous glance at Kate.

Kate doesn't hesitate, because if she pauses to think, for even a moment, doubt will render her helpless again.

She lifts the kettle and pours her homemade brine into Chloe's wounds.

Chloe groans, and twitches.

Kate says, "Hella, your Chosen is in need of aid. Accept this offering, lowly as it is, and preserve her life. Lend her the strength to survive, to heal, and to come back to us. We need her. She...is important to us. To me. Hella, please-!"

The demon's anger is an assassin's garrotte tightening suddenly around her neck, closing her throat.

Rachel must feel it too. She grimaces, and shakes her head. "Fuck! That hurts."

Max says, "Will you stop? You can't complain about how long this is taking when you're the one interrupting the process."

Kate gasps in relief as she feels the strangling sensation end. Avaradun shifts its attention back to Max.

Kate doesn't risk looking round. She asks Rachel, "What's happening? What's she doing?"

"Okay, so...you need to stay calm here..."

"Why...?"

"She's trying to cut a deal. Safe passage for us in return for...concessions."

Kate stabs a quick look at Max, who is apparently arguing with the demon. "What concessions?"

Rachel sighs. "Letting it take Victoria."

" _What_? She can't do that! We have to stop her. I knew I couldn't trust her-"

Rachel grabs Kate's wrist. Kate's surprised both by the strength in Rachel's soft hands and by the fact that Kate's holding the knife.

"Kate. Stop. The only reason any of us are still breathing is Max. Because she _chose_ to stand between that thing and us. I wouldn't do that, Kate. Not if I thought I could run, instead. Would you?"

"I...don't know. I'd try, I think, but-"

Rachel's grip tightens. Her eyes, though a shade of hazel, like Kate's, seem to possess a lustrous depth that Kate knows she lacks. "If you did take a stand, right now, could you stop it? Slow it, even for a heartbeat?"

Faith is a powerful thing.

And Kate truly believes that even now, at this dark moment, the Gods have a plan for them. It wouldn't be faith to assume that she was that plan's lynchpin, though.

It would be arrogance.

"Without the Gods' help...no."

Rachel nods. She releases her grip. "If you go after Max, I couldn't stop _you_. But you'd be giving that thing what it wants."

Kate's unwilling to make any effort to hide her bitterness when she says, "Isn't that what Max is doing, anyway?"

Rachel looks down at Chloe. So Kate does, too.

Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but she seems to be breathing with less difficulty. Chloe's face is still, and too pale, but perhaps less pained?

Rachel says, "Have faith, priestess. I don't really understand Gods or demons. But I know people pretty well." Rachel looks over at Max. Her smile is a thing of fierce edges. "She's not done fighting, yet."

It takes real effort to open her fingers, but Kate somehow puts the knife down. She takes a breath, then Chloe's hand. She kisses Chloe's forehead. "Come back to us, Chloe. May Hella guide you."

Kate steels herself before she turns to face Max and the demon.

She holds Chloe's hand, and her faith, as tightly as she can, and watches Max bargain for their lives.

* * *

It's still too hard to look at Avaradun full-on, so Kate fights the pull of the demon's presence and focuses on Max.

It's obvious that her efforts against the demon have taken a toll. She holds herself rigidly upright, but Kate can feel the exhaustion and fear Max is trying to hide.

She's able to get a better sense of Kronus' essence, too. It's...wrong. In someone like Victoria, or Duke Prescott, the essence of the Gods is mingled with their spirit, a seamless blend of mortal and divine energy.

In Chloe, Hella's essence seems to swell and shrink like the tide, usually in response to Chloe's mood. When Chloe's angry, frightened, ready to fight, that's when Hella's gift is most obvious within her. But there's a sense of continuity, of cooperation between Chloe and Hella's gift.

Kronus' essence burrows in to Max's spirit, it twists around her. She can see that Max is struggling against it, barely keeping it in check, even as she wrestles against the demon. It's an ugly sight, a perversion of how the bond should be formed. It's a wonder that Max has survived for years without suffering serious wounds to her spirit...

Kate narrows her eyes, and looks more closely at Max, past the assumptions she's been making.

Kate only realises that she gasps when Rachel whispers, "What is it?"

"N-nothing." Nothing she can tell Rachel. But if they survive this, it only makes it all the more vital that they remove Kronus' essence from Max.

Quickly.

* * *

Kate's not too impressed with Max's negotiation style, when she finally focuses on the words being said.

Max says, "You can take Victoria. To the Void, for all I care. But Chloe..."

Avaradun's tentacles twist into a knot, then violently yank themselves apart. Kate winces at the intensity of the hatred Avaradun projects at Max.

Max is staggered by it, losing a pace as she tries to find her balance. When she does, she seems smaller, thinner, more fragile.

"I...I can't just let you-"

Avaradun sends another pulse of thought, something more complex, with no small hint of condescension.

Max nods wearily. "Yeah. I know. No need to be so rude about it."

Avaradun rears up, stretching out its tentacles. There's a flare of light, of heat, of blood-smell and...Kate closes her eyes. She runs through the morning prayers to Aram in her mind, trying not to let Avaradun's presence overwhelm her again.

Max's voice is tiny, but it brings a sudden stillness with it that lets Kate gasp out the breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Alright. I know you have to fulfill your contract. And that means...you can have them both."

Avaradun presses forward eagerly while remaining perfectly still.

Kate doesn't manage even the first syllable of protest before Rachel hisses, "Shh! Faith, Kate! Wait."

It seems that every hour in this city has given Kate a new hardest thing she's had to do. In this tavern, every minute has brought something worse than the last.

But doing nothing in the moment that Max consigns Chloe to death is the worst thing she has ever experienced.

Kate crouches and sweats across Chloe's cool palm and tries not to wish that awful things will happen to Max.

One of Avaradun's claw-tipped feet twitches and begins to rise.

Max growls, "You'll agree to my terms first."

Avaradun balances perfectly on its spindly legs, one raised in the beginnings of a step towards Victoria. Its stillness is an act of profoundly calibrated mockery that makes bile rise in Kate's throat.

Max swallows. She says, "You'll hurt no one else here. You'll do no more damage to my realm. You'll respect _all_ the rules of this tavern, in fact. When I say you go, you'll go. You'll kill no one in the city, when you leave here. You'll treat Victoria gently. You'll...make it painless. For...when you kill her. You'll make it quick."

And it seems to Kate that Max's terms are full of loopholes, things the demon can exploit. It might not be able to _kill_ anyone in the city, but it can hurt them, maim them. It can destroy property, cause havoc.

And it doesn't matter how gentle it is with Victoria, she's still being doomed by Max's decision.

But that isn't what makes her spit out words like a mouthful of rotten fruit.

"Chloe. Her name is Chloe Price."

Rachel stiffens.

Max looks back at Kate, haggard and aged.

"You're buying your life with Chloe's. You could at least use her name."

Max stares at her, and Kate locks eyes with her, ready to stare her down.

Max's eyes are tired, bloodshot, beaten.

But _behind_ her eyes is a will stronger than hope, more resilient than a willow in a gale, more certain than Aram's justice.

Max's gaze doesn't waver. Her lips compress into a cutting edge.

Kate looks away.

It's as easy to do as anything is, when there's no other choice.

Avaradun remains perfectly still throughout their brief exchange.

Max says, "Do you agree to my terms, Avaradun?"

Kate risks looking up again. All she can see of Max is her back.

Rachel breathes out, barely audible, "Kate? Shut the fuck up, now, okay?"

Avaradun twitches, just slightly.

"You heard my terms. That's the best offer you're going to get. And time's running out, for everyone. I swear to agree to my side of the bargain, on Engramma's Seal. I'll pay the full penalty if I violate our agreement. You swear to abide by my terms, on the Seal, and they're yours."

Kate feels a cold, crawling nausea in her gut as Avaradun trills its joyful agreement.

Max bows her head. "I lift my protection from Victoria Chase and Chloe Price. Take them. I won't interfere."

* * *

Kate just grips Chloe's hand tighter.

Avaradun bounds forward, right at Chloe, tentacles whipping. Kate flinches, but doesn't retreat from Chloe's side.

Avaradun stumbles, trips over its own feet, veers into a table and crashes into it. Its legs break with a series of strange cracks and pops, as if cockroaches were being thrown into a fire.

Rachel laughs.

It's not quite hysterical, but not entirely sane, that laugh.

It's mocking. It's triumphant. It's hope and relief and uprooted despair.

Kate doesn't understand.

Avaradun thrashes weakly, tries desperately to rise. Its thoughts rush out, seek something to latch onto. But where once it was oppressive to be near the demon, Kate finds herself able to shrug off this latest onslaught with ease.

Rachel's awful laughter abruptly stops. She chokes, coughs, and abruptly turns away to throw up.

For the first time, Kate feels in complete sympathy with Rachel.

Max raises her head. She says, "Is there something wrong, Avaradun?"

The demon's struggles increase, but other than smashing to pieces the table Avaradun is wrapped around, it achieves nothing.

It trills something...no, it _whines_ , in complaint.

Max says, "Cheating? I set fair terms. You agreed to them. We have witnesses here who can attest to that."

Rachel wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

Rachel says, "Oh, yeah. I'm a witness to that... _genius_. I thought I was the best artist in the city, but Max! She got you, you fucker. She got you!" Her voice is shaky, but exultant.

Kate says, "I don't understand...how...?"

Rachel says, "Avaradun agreed to obey the rules of this tavern. _All_ of them. Rules like, 'Things fall down,' Kate. Max gave up Victoria and Chloe, but in return she made Avaradun agree to obey the Gods' Laws!"

Kate turns slowly and stares at Max.

Max says, "Those legs can't bear your weight, not when you actually weigh something. Those tentacles throw you off balance when you try to move. Do you even know how muscles work, Avaradun? Can you _breathe_? Because you'll need to, to obey the rules of my tavern and live long enough to complete your sorcerer's contract."

Max makes a blade of every word.

Avaradun stills for a moment. Kate senses it trying to focus inward, trying to adapt its body. For a moment, the demon's will engages with its power, the machinery of its magic changing the structure of its physical form.

Max steps towards Avaradun.

"That's against the rules, demon. In this place, people can't change their bodies on a whim."

Avaradun _panics_.

Tentacles possessed of ill-formed musculature reach frantically towards Chloe. Misshapen legs try to find purchase. That awful mouth widens and widens and tries to suck in air enough to give that twisted, dimming body strength enough to take action.

Max raises her right hand. "Stop."

Avaradun's motion ceases.

Max says, "You've broken the rules of my tavern. You've broken our agreement, sworn on Engramma's Seal. I name you lawbreaker."

Avaradun wails in anguish.

Max says, "Whatever's left of you, when you get to the Void, you tell them what's waiting for them the next time a sorcerer opens a path."

Kate feels the air change, feels a tide of divine energy rising, _engulfing_ Avaradun. She can sense the pull of the Void, dragging Avaradun away from the world and beyond her understanding.

Max's hand clenches into a fist. Within her, Kronus' essence flares and power flows.

"Wait."

Avaradun is caught, torn between Engramma's Seal and Max's will.

"You tried to kill my _Chloe_. Understand this: I won't let _anything_ hurt Chloe Price ever again. Now go suffer, you miserable _fuck_."

Kronus' essence blazes in a near-visible corona around Max, searing into Avaradun even as the power of the Seal goes to work. For a timeless second, Avaradun's pain and terror linger in the aether.

The second passes, and Avaradun Wind Dancer is gone.

The divine energies dissipate.

There's a wrongness that doesn't.

The ruined tavern groans. A silence settles on them, a silence made of all the little sounds of life that the demon drowned out.

Kate stands up. She's surprised she doesn't float to the ceiling.

Juliet uncurls from her huddle. She whispers, "Is it over?"

Kate looks around, at all the wounded people, all the damage done. She says, "No, it isn't. Can you walk? Can you fetch a healer?"

Juliet stands up. "Yes...I...yes, I will."

Max nods, once. She says, "Right. Good. How's Chl-"

She breaks off to brush under her nose. She looks at bloody fingers, as more bloods runs from her nose, across her lips and down her chin.

Max says, "Oh."

Kate races forward, as Max's knees give out. She manages to catch her before she topples to the floor.

Max hardly seems to weigh anything at all. Her skin is fever hot.

Kate eases her to the ground. "It's okay. You saved us. Everything's going to be okay, Max."

Kate holds on to Max, and to her faith, and to the fading hope that she isn't lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> And, phew!
> 
> This story has long twisted and turned away from my original outline, but I think we've reached the halfway point. Give or take a fraction or two.
> 
> The last few chapters have been kinda tough to write, honestly, less in the execution than in finding the will to not just write _anything_ else. 
> 
> So with that in mind, I'm going to be taking a short hiatus. Just a couple of weeks while I get my ducks in a row for the back half and recharge the batteries a bit. And maybe finish some other things I've been tinkering with that are sucking up my brain's very limited bandwidth. I mean, I've got so little left I just used two horrible cliches in one sentence in these very notes.
> 
> I'll be coming back with more of this wonky tale, in early May, and I will aim to get back on a regular weekly schedule when I do. 
> 
> And I will finish this story. On this point, you may be assured I am being 100% cereal.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me on this one, folks. I hope you don't mind having to wait a little longer for the next bit!
> 
> And if you've got any thoughts you'd like to share, about this chapter, or the story so far, or what you think is coming, be it ever so critical or speculative, it would be lovely to hear from you.
> 
> Thanks again! See you in a little while!


	15. Hella

Chloe wakes up.

At least, she thinks she does. She passes from a state of non-awareness to a state of awareness. That much she's sure of.

She doesn't feel hurt. She touches her chest and finds that she's naked, but her skin is undamaged.

Chloe feels...pale, though. She feels like whole tranches of memory are somewhere out of reach.

She looks around, trying to get her bearings.

She tries, but this place, if it even is a place, is like nothing she's ever seen before.

It seems to have abandoned identifiable shapes and proportions in favour of a silvery-grey colour scheme and the _suggestion_ of ground, sky, hills, sea...

At the thought of that last, the sound of surf reaches Chloe. She smells a salt tang. She sees individual drops of spray thrown up onto the beach she's standing on.

"Where am I?"

Chloe doesn't expect an answer. She doesn't expect a woman's voice, husky and amused, to come out of nowhere and raise goosebumps on her skin.

That's what she gets, though.

The voice says, "This is the Limen. You are between."

"Uh, okay...whoever said that. What does that mean, though?"

She emerges from the water, upright, head first. Water rolls away from her, revealing pearlescent skin, curves like waves about to crash, eyes the precise colour of a storm.

"You are between...everything. Life and death. Waking and dreaming. The world and the Void. Creation and oblivion. You are my guest."

Chloe swallows and finds no words.

"I am your God."

Hella smiles.

* * *

The Limen only seems to become real when Chloe focuses on something. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see just grey formlessness that merely hints at shapes.

On that basis, it's hard to say if Hella is real. Chloe can't take her eyes off her.

There's something of Rachel in the roll of her hips, of Kate in her lips, of Victoria in her posture.

Chloe is forcibly struck by the realisation that she knows a lot of beautiful women. And that there is a wide gulf between mortal beauty and the divine.

Hella smiles, suddenly, lips peeling back from sharp white teeth. "I can make you _appreciate_ that difference, my Chosen."

Which sounds terrifying. Chloe's feet take a step towards Hella.

Chloe swallows. "How did you...?"

"You are my Chosen. We share an...intimate bond."

Hella is close enough to touch. Which She does, brushing a finger against the corner of Chloe's mouth. Chloe's skin tingles as if in anticipation of lightning.

Hella smiles and holds up her finger. "You were also drooling."

It's Kate's smile, and Victoria's cocked hip, and Rachel's scent mixed with the tang of the oceans.

Chloe says, "I just get that way, sometimes. Y'know, when I've been fighting demons-"

Abruptly, pain rips Chloe apart. It starts in her chest and works outward in tight spirals that burrow into her muscles and bones.

Chloe discovers she's fallen to her knees when Hella puts Her hand on Chloe's head and the pain eases off.

Hella says, "Memories are substance in the Limen. Be cautious of what you invoke, Chloe Price."

Hella's hand should be cold, perhaps, but it isn't. Warmth spreads through Chloe, as much from the sound of her name on Hella's lips as from Her touch.

Hella removes her hand. Chloe stands up.

Hella says, "You have questions." She tilts her head, just like Max always does.

And maybe memories are _power_ here, because that name gives Chloe clarity and strength enough to stare Hella in her impossible eyes.

"Are my friends okay? Am...am _I_ okay?"

"Your friends prevailed in their struggle. Though not without injury. None were hurt as badly as you. My essence is healing your body, but..."

"But?"

"Your spirit is wounded. You are dying."

Chloe stares out at the part of the horizon that looks real. "Oh. Shit. Uh, I mean-"

Hella flicks her wrist. "I am not so easily offended."

"Well, that's a fucking relief."

Hella laughs like rain breaking an overlong dry spell.

"So...are You going to heal me?"

"If you do not heal yourself, your spirit will fade and your body die. I am trying to help you, but you prevent me."

"I'm really not."

"I have offered you a gift. You have chosen to use it, rather than accept it."

"I don't understand!"

"My essence is _within_ you, but it is not truly part of you. You have never accepted Me into your heart."

Chloe swallows. "Can You blame me? Uh, _do_ You blame me?"

"I do not care about _blame_. If you accept My essence, your spirit will be restored. You will be stronger. If you do not...you must find a way to not die, Chloe Price. It is _not_ My will."

Chloe's quiet for what might be a long time. Hella turns Her gaze to the formless silver-grey of the Limen. Chloe is careful not to look where She does.

There are things that mortals shouldn't know.

There are things that they should, though.

Chloe asks, "Why is this happening now? Why _here_? Why...me?"

Hella's laughter is hailstones on a window pane. "Necessity."

Anger has always been there for Chloe. Her one constant. Anger rises up within her and she embraces it gladly.

"Fuck you! You _left_. All of You fuckers just gave up and went away. And now You're back, and people I care about are in danger, and You're going to laugh at me? You're going to fuck with my head? Do something useful, or just fuck off, Asshole!"

Hella stares at her.

Chloe stares right back. Even through her anger, she wonders if she's about to die. She wonders what dying would be like, in this place between.

Hella slowly smiles. " _That_ is why I Chose you. Your purity of heart. So much _rage_ within you. Oh, I have missed mortals."

Chloe takes a deep breath. She tries not to think about the implications of anything other than the word 'missed'. "What does that mean? Didn't You choose to...leave?"

"We chose what was...necessary."

Hella holds up her hand when Chloe opens her mouth.

Chloe shuts her mouth. She notices that Hella's fingernails are made of coral, each one a different shade.

"The world where your body lies is Our creation. It is made of Our essence. And it is under threat. We acted as We did to reduce the danger."

"The whole _world_? That's a joke, right? Right?"

"There have been attempts to...unmake Our creation. Those attempts have become quite sophisticated. One man in particular has made greater progress than was thought possible. He must be stopped."

"Who is he?"

"He wears a mask not even Kronus' eyes can see beyond. But he is the one who sent the storm. And he must be stopped. Or everything that We have made will be unmade."

"What? How is that even possible?"

"Shall I explain the secrets of the universe to you? It _is_ possible. You must prevent it."

"Me? You're an actual God! Why can't you-"

Hella hisses. "Enough! We are...limited by custom and circumstance. And that is why _here_. In this non-place beyond creation, I may appear to you. And at this time, when your life ebbs, I command you: _live_. You are My vengeance, Chloe Price. You are My fury. You will destroy those who have offended Me, who seek to unmake...creation."

Chloe shudders. Hella becomes less substantial, her body almost intangible, as the outlines of her true shape become faintly visible.

Chloe has no frame of reference to describe what she only dimly perceives. But the terrible wrongness she felt when the demon attacked is dwarfed by the awful _rightness_ of Hella's true form.

Chloe gasps, "P-please...stop..."

Hella frowns. Hella becomes merely...inhuman again. A collage of Chloe's mortal desires blurring the God's true form and easing the yearning within Chloe that threatened to...Chloe's not sure what.

She and Hella are mere inches apart.

Hella smiles. It's a Max smile, only sweeter. "You stir such passions in me, Chloe Price. Accept my essence wholly. Serve Me. Slay Our enemies. And when that is done, and it becomes possible again, I will find you. I will tarry a while with you in the world. And they will sing of our time together through all the ages of your race."

Chloe shivers. "I..."

Hella watches her, curious.

Chloe looks away. The Limen is grey and full of shapes she doesn't dare bring into focus. She looks down at herself.

She's still naked.

Chloe frowns. She concentrates. The weight of her father's coat settles on her shoulders. She remembers him giving her this coat. She remembers him telling her about Hella, and the sea.

She can't quite remember what his voice sounds like. Much as she tries to keep the memory of her parents fresh in her mind, she knows she's losing things. Her mother's smile. Her father...it's some aspect of pitch or cadence that's gone.

It feels like she's betrayed him.

So it feels like a gift she doesn't deserve when she hears him again, behind her.

"Hella is the sea and the sea is incredible. Beautiful. Mysterious. Rich in wonders. She's cruel, too. She calls to us, and she claims us before we're ready to leave the shore behind. She's not exactly a liar. And you can get so much from a life on the sea. But you can't ever trust her, honey. Not when it's a question of what's best for you."

Chloe doesn't turn around. She doesn't have to, to know that he isn't really there.

She understands that gifts can be used to create obligations. Hella's gift is like that. But every gift her father ever gave her was an _answer_ to the obligation of his love for her.

She need feel no guilt for accepting them.

She feels pieces of herself she didn't know were missing flow back into her.

The Limen seems greyer and less substantial than ever.

Chloe whispers, "Thanks, dad."

She chooses to believe that he hears her say it.

Hella looks displeased when Chloe meets her eye again. "I warned you of memories in this place. They are not to be trusted."

Chloe grins. "Well, lady, that's just hilarious, coming from _You_."

Hella towers over her. Her eyes boil and there's lightning dripping from her lips when she snarls, "Blasphemer! You dare accuse _me_ of-"

Chloe says, "Shut. Up."

Hella does.

Chloes nods. "Right. You want to threaten me? After telling me You need me to save the world? Great plan, Hella!"

Hella opens her mouth, but Chloe cuts her off.

"I'm supposed to trust You? When You're laying it on so thick I can spot it even when I'm not all here? Wherever here _really_ is."

Hella looks troubled. "I have not lied. The danger is very real."

"I believe that much."

Hella smiles. "Then you know what must be done."

Chloe cracks her neck. She rolls her shoulders. "I know You're not telling me everything. And I know You're not the only one. Which means I _don't_ know what needs to be done. But I know what I'm going to do."

Chloe glares at Hella. Hella backs off a step.

"I'll go back to the land of the living. And I'll do what I have to do. But I _don't_ accept You. I am not Your servant. I'm definitely not Your puppet. I'm going to do what I think is best with the essence You've _loaned_ me. And when the world's saved, we'll be quits, Hella. Oh, and to be clear: _I_ decide who I...tarry with. Not You. Understand?"

Hella's eyes glow hot. Sparks crackle between her fingers. She steps forward, slowly. She...grins. It seems to be entirely Her own.

Hella purrs, "Oh, I Chose so very well with you. Go, then. I have...faith in you, Chloe Price."

Chloe swallows. Hella's approval is somehow more terrifying than her anger.

"Right. Uh, how do I leave-"

* * *

Chloe wakes up with a gasp in a tin bathtub full of sea water. She's in a small room with a single tub. Someone's house? No. The room is...cosy, full of little things handled often and with love.

This is someone's home.

Chloe's alone. She's also naked, cold, pruned, in considerable pain, and _hungry_.

"Max? Kate? Anyone...?" Her voice is a withered croak.

It gets a response, even so. There are footsteps outside. The door opens. Rachel Amber limps into the room.

She looks tired. She's wearing someone else's clothes and a look of concern that eases considerably when she sees Chloe.

"Gods, Chloe! I thought...you almost-"

"No time, Rachel. Where's Max? I need to know everything that happened. I need to get moving."

Chloe grabs the edges of the tub. She tries to heave herself upright.

Rachel says, "Chloe, stop! You're not in any shape to-"

"I'm fine! Except I just talked to Hella and the world's going to end. Oh, shit! I...I think I'm a prophet now? How weird is that?"

Rachel's jaw is hanging open and it's so odd, Chloe giggles.

She grunts, strains, and somehow pulls herself upright.

Rachel limps hurriedly to meet her.

Chloe sways. She tries to brush some salt off her skin. She blinks at the raw, still healing flesh on her torso.

"Hey. I've got holes in me..."

Rachel grabs her just before she passes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> And to my long-term readers, I managed to let a month go by, huh? Thanks for your patience! I promise it won't be so long until next time!
> 
> In fact, let's all do this again on the 19th, shall we?
> 
> Oh, and if you've a care to, please do leave a comment. 
> 
> Cheers!


	16. Lockdown

Max doesn't wake up at her desk.

She wakes up in a very large bed, softer than anything she's ever slept on before.

After a few minutes of looking around without taking anything in, an idea presents itself.

She should get up.

It takes her a while to crawl to the edge of the bed. The mattress is yielding, treacherous. And something inside her is still asleep. Her muscles try to pull her in different directions. Her mind seems smothered under a blanket she can't find the edges of.

When she gets to the edge, she needs to pause for rest. Sitting up, shrugging off the last clinging sheet, she finds that her feet dangle, not quite reaching the floor.

She shakes her head blearily. She opens her mouth, just to see what might fall out.

"I wish Ref was here."

Her voice is cracked and raw.

Max frowns. She focuses on that thought. She pursues the implications of it into her last coherent memories.

"He's going to be so angry when he hears about this."

She thinks some more. She looks around her as she does.

She takes in the worrying lack of windows. She weighs that against the ornately carved door, the wood panelling, the rich draperies, the glass mirror with the gold frame, the trace of sandalwood perfume, the silks and jewels lying carelessly around.

She spots a carafe and pushes herself off the bed. She totters over to the end table it sits on. She sniffs first, then takes the carafe in both hands and drinks deeply.

Max doesn't spill any water on her new dress, because she isn't wearing it. She spills water over someone else's ill-fitting but much more expensive gown.

She puts the half-empty container back on the table.

Her voice sounds better when she says, "I made a mistake. That's why Ref will be angry. I don't know how to fix it. That's one reason why I wish he was here. Now, I just need to figure out what my mistake was."

Max blinks. "Oh. And where I am. I guess."

Max looks at, but not into, the mirror. "I'm not in obvious danger. This isn't exactly a prison. But...I am in danger."

She takes a more careful look around. She finds a lot of expensive and useless things. She finds a pair of shears in a drawer. A razor in another. She picks up the razor. She frowns at it.

"Not my kind of weapon," she mutters.

She puts it back. She looks at the door. She takes a few stumbling steps towards it.

She stops.

Max shuffles back to the table. She picks up the carafe and carefully empties it over her head.

The water's cold. Her brain starts to warm up.

So.

Max is currently doused in fresh well water.

Max's considerable grogginess has a couple of implications. The one she chooses to focus on is that's she's probably been unconscious for a while. That and fresh well water suggests it's some time after dawn.

Max sniffs herself. Not as fresh as the water, but not too bad.

She's only lost a day.

Max looks around again.

This is a noble's room. A noble _woman's_. The water was most likely delivered by a servant. But not into _this_ room by a servant. Servants don't smell like sandalwood any more than wealthy nobles fetch their own well water.

She's in the noblewoman's bedroom. A bedroom in a suite of rooms, or there would be a window. Not the noblewoman's home, or Max wouldn't be in her bed. There's guest rooms for that sort of thing.

So.

She must be in the Ducal Palace. In Victoria Chase's bed, in her guest suite. Victoria was out of action when Max was last awake, but she's sure neither Kate nor Victoria would bring her here. Safe to assume that was down to the Ducal guard. They'd be all over the Two Whales after the mess Avaradun made.

"What about the mess I made?"

No answer to that. Deal with it later.

So Victoria or...Kate? No, _Victoria_ woke up and made sure Max was brought along for the ride. Victoria would be the one to decide who goes in her bed, not Kate. And Victoria would want to keep Max close.

And Victoria _wouldn't_ want Max's secret made widespread. So she's likely being treated as just another victim of Avaradun's attack. Albeit one Lady Victoria Chase feels compelled to shelter. Someone's relative? Kate's?

Max will have caught the attention of the Guard, if not the Duke, but she'll still have a degree of anonymity.

And anonymity is autonomy while she's in Arcadia.

Max runs her fingers through her hair. She combs it and squeezes some of the water out of it.

She's in danger from the sorcerer. She might still be unknown to them, but she can't afford to assume that.

"I'm in danger from Victoria Chase."

She examines that assertion. She finds nothing to contradict it.

Victoria wants what she's carrying and is willing to use force to get it. Victoria might be grateful to Max for saving her. She might know something about the role of the Lawspeaker. She might even respect it. Which is interesting. Suggestive, in fact...

But what's relevant is that Victoria is driven by needs that outweigh other considerations. Max can't trust her. And Max can't afford to just go along with her.

What Victoria thinks is best for Elysium isn't necessarily what's best for _everyone_.

"I have responsibilities of my own."

Max rolls her eyes when she feels a faint pressure build in her skull.

"Good morning, Kronus. Now, hush. I'll see you safely to your intended. Be patient a little longer."

The pressure fades away. Kronus' essence seems groggy, too.

Max frowns.

Max needs more information. She needs to know what Victoria and Kate are planning. She needs to understand why the sorcerer was desperate enough to send Avaradun to catch Victoria and kill Chloe. She needs to understand everything at play here.

And that's going to be tricky to do, because Max is almost certainly on her own. She has no allies here. Because Victoria would want to keep her isolated. Make her easy to control, or at least contain.

Max knows that Ulfar was hurt, but it didn't seem too bad. Odds are good that Ulfar is in custody. Which is not the best news for Ulfar, but in the long run, he should be fine. And him being in custody might be good news, if it delays Snorri finding out exactly what happened yesterday.

Rachel and Juliet? Hard to say, but even wounded, Rachel's too smooth to be taken by the Guard. She'll be laying low somewhere, probably with Juliet.

And maybe...

Chloe.

Max takes a few deep breaths and forces herself to _think_.

Wounded or not, Victoria wouldn't risk letting Chloe near Max. Not after what happened in the tavern. Chloe isn't here.

Best reason yet for Max to get out.

Which is when Max realises that she isn't very worried about Chloe. Because...

"Chloe's alive. Oh, she's alive."

Max smiles.

Gods, Chloe found her! After all these years of hiding, of not being Max, of being _broken_ , there exists the prospect of getting some of the most important pieces of herself back.

And she isn't about to let Victoria Chase, or Sean Prescott, or Kronus Himself get in the way.

Max strides towards the door. She falters before she reaches it.

Max gasps. "Oh, fuck. I think I've figured out my mistake. Oh, _Gods_ let it not be..."

She takes a minute to lock her panic down.

There's no way to test the theory that forms in her mind. Not right now. Later.

Max takes another breath. She grits her teeth. She looks in the mirror.

She looks awake.

Max nods.

She opens the door.

* * *

She finds Victoria and Kate eating breakfast in a parlour with more surface area than Ref's entire house.

Neither look happy, but Victoria's tension is obvious from the set of her shoulders to the way she stabs pieces of fruit with her knife.

Kate looks lost in thought. Where Victoria's anger is obvious, Kate is harder to read.

Victoria seems to be in the middle of a rant, "...no way of knowing how long it'll take. So we're stuck here, for now. We can't move on Blackwell, we can't get what we need for the ritual, we can't go for a stroll in the fucking gardens. And this Max...creature. We need to find out everything she knows. We need to-"

Kate looks up. "Victoria, Max saved us. I don't think you-"

"Gods, Kate! You think she's our friend? She's got her own agenda. And after your little display yesterday-"

Max says, "Good morning."

They look up, surprised. Victoria scowls. Kate starts to stand up, then thinks better of it. She shoots a look at Victoria.

Victoria snaps, "What's good about it? Opportunities to eavesdrop?"

Kate bites her lip and fidgets. "It's good that Max is awake."

She makes it not quite a question.

Victoria glowers at Kate.

"Does it make a difference? We're under fucking house arrest until the wedding. She might as well still be in a fucking coma."

Max carefully keeps her expression blank.

"Well, I'm not. And I think we need to talk a few things over. And then I'm leaving. I have things to do today."

Kate blurts, "You can't go! You're not-"

"You're not a guest, _Max_. You're my prisoner. And even if you weren't, the Ducal Guard won't let you leave. There's a dozen men outside this suite. Keeping us all _safe_."

Victoria stabs an orange. She pushes it around her plate, watching it bleed.

Max watches Kate out of the corner of her eye. Kate thinks carefully before saying nothing at all.

Max walks over to the window and looks out onto the elaborate gardens and looming stonework of the Ducal Palace's inner courtyard. She's never been in any kind of palace before.

It seems busy. Nobles and merchants and servants and guards and messengers and gardeners and just...people move to and fro in the early morning light.

Max realises something else she forgot about. She's glad she's facing away from the others when she does.

"How many people? At the tavern. Who...?"

Victoria snorts. "After you passed out, the Guard showed up and I took charge of things. Chloe was too badly hurt to be moved and -"

"I know all that. And why you really left Chloe there. That's not what I asked."

Kate says, "Three dead. Five more were wounded. Healers were tending to them when we...left. Chloe was...stable. Rachel's wound wasn't life threatening."

"What story did you tell?"

"Oh, don't you know that already? I thought you knew everything!"

Max watches Kate reach out and touch Victoria's arm in the reflection of the window. Victoria flinches away.

Max sighs. She turns to face them. "I can work out the obvious stuff, Victoria. But I'll need some blanks filled in before we can make a plan for what's next."

"Nothing's next. Not until we get help. And you'll address me by my proper title, _Lawspeaker_."

Max is in no mood for a pissing contest. She's got a headache brewing, her body hurts, and she's spent the last five years in a state of unending crisis thanks to the machinations of a sorcerer and the fragment of an absent God in her head. She wants to get out of here. She wants to be done with this.

And she _needs_ to see Chloe.

So.

Max smiles. "Which title? Lady Chase? Or Justicar?"

Victoria stiffens.

Kate blinks. "What? You're one of Aram's paladins? You never told me that."

"I'm not...it's not what you-"

"You're still in training, then? Things were...complicated, yesterday. But you reacted in a very interesting way when I told you I was the Lawspeaker."

Victoria stares at her with the sort of dull hate that suggests its wielder is about to start honing it. "Aren't you _so_ clever, Max."

"I've heard you are, too. Care to start acting like it?"

Victoria's knuckles whiten round her knife.

Kate clears her throat. "Um. What is a lawspeaker?"

Max spreads her hands and raises an eyebrow at Victoria.

Victoria tosses her knife down, sending the orange bouncing across the table. She rolls her eyes. " _The_ Lawspeaker is a myth. One that you can learn about when you access Aram's higher mysteries. Including, yes, the Order of the Justicars. Which I am a novice member of."

Kates eyes widen. "I knew you were trained in the sword, but I didn't realise you were in holy orders. I thought you were just the heir to the duchy of Skald. Well, not _just_ , I mean-"

Victoria sighs. "It's fine, Kate. I know what you mean. And my status in the Order was kept secret for a reason. The less anyone knows about us, the less chance they can disrupt our mission." Victoria slumps. "Or that was the theory, anyway. I don't know how the sorcerer found us!"

There's a pause. Max doesn't break the silence.

After a minute, Kate does. "So, the Lawspeaker...?"

Victoria straightens up in her chair. "Right. According to the story I heard, Engramma created the title. Engramma saw the conflict between humans, Gods and demons getting worse. Before she went about creating the Seal, She took a woman of the Northern clans as Her disciple. She taught her everything She knew about Law and, well, everything. To give humanity a voice..."

Kate's brow furrows. She looks at Max. "Everything? But Engramma was the God of scholars. The depth of her knowledge was _vast_. No mortal could learn...could they? All those secrets." Kate shudders.

Max has oaths to keep. Some she's not in the least tempted to break.

She tries a shrug. "Do I look like I know Engramma's every secret? You're right that the Lawspeaker is humanity's voice. Someone who understands the higher Laws and the laws of the races. Someone who can speak up when the higher Laws are broken. Someone who can try to make things right. Without having to turn to the Gods or to sorcery. Someone who can...respect the way the world works. And protect it."

What Max doesn't say is that means protecting against _any_ threat. Including one from the Gods. It doesn't seem the most politic thing to say to a priestess and a paladin.

They stare at her. Kate looks at Victoria. Victoria slowly nods.

"That's...what I was taught. More or less. That's why Justicars are supposed to defer to the Lawspeaker's judgement. But it was just a myth..." She gives Max an uncertain look.

"Honestly? It's mostly about everyday law. Offering guidance, interpreting the law in complicated cases. Keeping the peace. And passing on what you've learned. Ref, the Lawspeaker before me, dealt with only a few cases of the higher Laws in almost seventy years. Mostly he dealt with cattle theft and feud. And, Gods, don't even get me started on Northern property law-"

Kate says, "Max? You talked to a demon. You _named_ it. And you...you sent it back to the Void. That's...incredible. You-"

"Did what I had to. Nothing more."

And that would be the first outright lie of the day. Max hopes her grimace isn't obvious.

Kate looks doubtful. "If the Lawspeaker is Engramma's legacy, then I don't understand why so few people know about it."

Victoria watches Max intently. She says, "I bet everyone does. In the Northlands."

Max nods. "Yes. They do."

Victoria's eyes widen slightly.

Kate says, "But why would someone so important live outside Elysium?"

Max doesn't take her eyes off Victoria. "There are Chosen in the Northlands, Kate. The Gods didn't favour Elysium alone."

"I know, but...that doesn't-"

Victoria cuts her off. "How did you come to Arcadia, Max?"

Max lets a slow smile spread across her face. "As part of the entourage of Snorri the Chieftain. Leader of the Helgafell clan and appointed spokesman of the assembled Northern clans. Who will be wondering where I am. And once he realises the Guard took me into custody..."

Victoria groans, "Fuck! He'll lodge a formal complaint with the Duke. And that'll put all of us under a lot of scrutiny."

"Which we don't want, because I'm carrying Kronus' essence in my veins. The essence that makes the monarch."

Kate says, "Yes, and...about that-"

Victoria's fist crashes down onto the table. Kate jumps as crockery rattles and Victoria's goblet overturns, spilling water over the tablecloth.

"You devious fucking... _witch_."

Max just smiles.

"Victoria!"

"She's pointing out all the ways she fucking outranks me! And that if I _don't_ let her go, she's in a position to expose us and...and... _fuck_."

Kate gapes at Victoria. "What?" She shakes her head. "But...that wouldn't help you, Max. Duke Prescott only stands to lose if the monarch is restored."

Max shrugs. "I agree. And I know that Kronus' essence isn't meant for me. It's part of my duty to see it properly restored."

Victoria huffs. "Then what are we talking about? You just need to wait and-"

"I still don't know you. Or what your role is in all of this. And I need to know more if we're going to take care of this sorcerer. So. Tell me everything you know. And we'll take things from there."

Victoria grits her teeth. "I don't care what titles you think you can claim, you can't tell _me_ what to do."

Kate nods, slowly. "I agree. And you can't tell me what to do either, Max. So I'll tell you everything because you deserve to hear it."

Max stares at Kate. Victoria makes a hissing noise, but stops when she sees the determination on Kate's face.

"This is the right thing to do, Victoria. We need Max. In more ways than one. The Gods brought her to us, just as they did...Chloe." Kate shoots Max a nervous look. "We have to tell her the truth."

* * *

They don't, of course. But they tell her enough of it for Max to work with.

The first part of it is easy enough.

Things at the tavern went about as Max guessed. When the Guard showed up, Rachel and Juliet slipped away with Chloe.

And Victoria and Kate were escorted back to the palace. Along with Kate's cousin, who they were meeting with when the tragedy occurred.

Later, the Duke paid a visit while Max was unconscious, and made it quite clear that Victoria should remain in her chambers until the Guard concluded their investigation.

Victoria was able to answer the Duke quite honestly when she told him she didn't know what had happened. She was unconscious for most it.

Duke Prescott wasn't convinced, but he didn't push it. Just left them locked in Victoria's suite and promised that he or Magistrate Wells would visit again when things were less hectic.

The rest of the story, relating to their mission, is much tougher to get out of them.

Max leans against the wall, near the window, as Kate and Victoria talk over each other and have quiet arguments over which parts of the story they're going to omit.

What she can sort out of the jumble of things she's told and things she has to guess is...disturbing.

Victoria and Kate are here to find, well, Max, as it turns out.

They're supposed to make contact with Justicars in the city once Kronus' essence has been found. The general feeling being that while the sooner Kronus' essence is extracted, the better, Arcadia is not a safe place to try to establish the new monarch.

The Prescotts are invested in building alliances with the Northern clans and even the Mermedonians. If they gain the support of Skald, and the Chases, there's a very real chance that Sean Prescott will be wearing the crown of Elysium in a few years.

He might be a bit hostile to the idea of someone stepping forward and claiming to be the new monarch with only a handful of Aram's Justicars behind them.

This much Max believes to be true. It fits what she already knows well enough. 

But she's quite sure it isn't the whole story, either. Duchess Chase has plenty to gain from her alliance with the Prescotts, after all. If Max has learned anything from Ref and Snorri, it's that those in power are seldom given to altruism at the expense of their own gain.

And it's hard to reconcile Duchess Chase being so keen to restore the monarch that she'll put her only child and heir into danger when there's more to be gained by going through with the wedding. Particularly given the _other_ details that emerge. Duchess Chase and the Justicars have been investigating events in Arcadia for some time. And they've been meeting resistance.

Investigators seeking the sorcerer have gone missing or been found dead. The Ducal Guard called the deaths accidents or the result of muggings or drunken arguments.

They even made the odd arrest, to show that something was being done.

But it was clear to the Justicars that someone was protecting the sorcerer. And if they were manipulating the Guard, suspicion had to fall on the Prescotts.

Max doesn't like it.

There's even more holes in this part of the story, but it seems like Victoria's frustrated rather than holding back.

There's nothing to implicate Sean Prescott. Not yet. But if proof of collusion with a sorcerer to overthrow the rightful ruler could be found...it's treason. The other duchies would have every reason they need to band together to obliterate the Prescotts. And Sean Prescott's just the type to go out fighting.

And whichever way things go, Elysium is in a lot of trouble. Kronus' essence can restore the monarch. And restoring the monarchy could be the only way to prevent civil war.

Some kind of war might be unavoidable. And that will effect every duchy of Elysium. And the Northern clans, and Elysium's colonies, and Mermedonia, too.

And then there's the other things. Chloe is Hella's Chosen. A sorcerer is sending _demons_ into a major city. And the Guard are possibly covering the sorcerer's tracks.

There's a bigger picture to all of this. A greater danger, hiding in the gaps of their knowledge.

And Max is right in the middle of all of it.

No matter what she does, even if she does nothing, people are going to die.

And she'll be responsible.

When they're done talking, things get quiet for a while.

In spite of, or maybe, if she's honest, _because_ of her responsibilities, Max wants to go back to Victoria's room and crawl into her bed and hide under the sheets.

But.

People she cares about are hurt. _Chloe_ is hurt.

Max Caulfield isn't going to let that pass.

She takes a deep breath. She bunches her hands into fists. She pushes away from the wall and juts out her chin.

"Alright. I'm in this with you. It seems like the priorities haven't changed. We need to find the sorcerer. And we need to find any evidence we can to exonerate or implicate Duke Prescott. Blackwell is still the best place to start."

Victoria snorts. "But we've no way in. We lost our burglar and... _shit_."

"What?"

Victoria stares at Kate. "The fucking duel!"

Kate groans. "We forgot. And Chloe's oathbound to fight it. And win..."

Max looks at the array of crockery, spoons, knives, and other implements on the table. She briefly considers violence. Her voice is surprisingly even when she says, "Tell me about this duel."

When they're done, they both look dismayed. They're worried about Chloe.

Which is...something.

Max smiles. "Well, you're clearly idiots."

Victoria bristles but Kate quickly reaches out and stills her. "Max, what are you thinking?"

"That this duel is our way out. Victoria, your honour is at stake, but so is your oathbound vassal. And if you let her come to harm, knowingly, that violates _your_ oath. Duke Prescott might not like it, but he can't let you come to harm over this. You can get us out of here. And you can find Chloe, and release her from that particular command."

Victoria purses her lips. "It might work...unless Zach withdraws from the duel."

Max grins. "Right. Because there's no way _you_ , Lady Victoria Chase, could make an angry young man do what you want."

Victoria's lips twitch. "Point."

"Kate. You got to see more of Avaradun than any of us yesterday."

Kate shudders. She looks down, into her teacup. "I've been trying to forget."

"Don't."

Max meets Kate's eye when she looks up. Kate says, "Avaradun can't come back, though..." Her eyes widen. "But it left traces of itself! You think the sorcerer..."

"Might bear traces of Avaradun's influence? Yes, I do. And you might be able to spot them. Whoever it is got wind of what you were up to. Maybe through...Chloe, but even then, it's only since she's been in contact with you. You haven't been here long, and you've mostly moved in noble circles. If the sorcerer is someone in the Prescott household, they might show up at the duel. After all, given who's involved, it's going to draw a crowd. It's a long shot, but maybe we'll get lucky."

Kate nods, slowly. "I'll need to go in disguise, though. In case the sorcerer knows I'm a sensitive. They might not show, if they know I'll be there."

Victoria says, "I'll say you're too squeamish to attend. It's basically true, anyway. You can wear a cloak and sit in the stands."

"Be careful, though. Both of you. The sorcerer is clearly desperate. They might try something, even at the high circle."

Victoria glares at her. "Both of _us_? Where the fuck do you think you'll be?"

"Why, I'll be at Blackwell. Obviously."

Victoria blinks. "What? How?"

Max shrugs. "I have an interview this morning. They're short a scribe."

"I don't like the idea of you going off on your own, Max."

It would sound neutral, if it wasn't said through gritted teeth.

Max suspects that Victoria doesn't like the idea of letting Kronus' essence out of her sight. Or the idea of Max getting her hands on any evidence that might be found.

Max says, "Do we have a choice? I have my own reasons for looking into Blackwell, Victoria. More than just the future of Elysium is at stake. And we can't expect...the burglary option. To work, I mean."

Max clamps her mouth shut and avoids Kate's sympathetic look.

Victoria scowls. "Fuck. I still don't like it."

Kates says, "We need this, Victoria. We're running out of time."

Victoria drums her fingers on the table. Abruptly, she pushes herself upright. "Alright. I'll get dressed and go see the Duke."

Kate says, "Good. And I'll make a list. I think we should gather the things we'll need for the transference ritual. We should perform it as soon as it's safe."

Victoria frowns. She fidgets. Reluctantly, she nods. "Alright. Can't hurt."

With that, she strides away.

Which just leaves Max and Kate and things unsaid.

* * *

As soon as Victoria leaves the room, Kate pours tea into a fresh cup. "Won't you sit down? You have some time. You should eat."

Max shakes her head. "Just say what you want to say, Kate."

Kate looks up at her, startled. "How-"

Max sighs. "I don't recommend taking up gambling as a career. You're not good at hiding your feelings."

Kate blushes and bows her head. "Maybe not. But just because you're good at hiding them, doesn't mean you aren't feeling them. And you need to be able to feel them, Max. And to...act on them."

Max has a _feeling_ she knows what's coming. It's not a conversation she wants to have.

Max sighs. "Stop avoiding the issue. We both have things to do."

Kate toys with her cup. "I think you're being a little hypocritical with _that_ advice. And one thing _you_ should do is sit."

"Kate, I know this is about yesterday. You were under Avaradun's influence, but what you said was based on what's inside-"

"Max. You're dying."

There's a moment's silence.

"Oh. Huh."

Max sits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I suspect I won't have a new chapter of this for you next week, but I'm willing to bet as much as a shiny penny that chapter 17 will be coming your way on the 29th.
> 
> See you then!


	17. Bonds

Kate sits across from Max and tries not to fidget. This isn't how she wanted this conversation to start. This isn't really a conversation she wants to have at all.

Max is quiet, her expression thoughtful.

Kate asks, "Tea?"

Max blinks and comes back to herself. "Oh. Yes. Please."

Kate passes the fresh cup to Max, grateful for the familiarity of the action even as she shrinks from the inadequacy of the gesture.

Max accepts the cup. She sips, sighs, and closes her eyes.

Looking at her across the table, Kate realises for the first time that they're about the same height. Max carries herself like a...well, like a queen. She projects such strength and conviction. She seems so...alive.

Max isn't taller than Kate. Max is a little too thin. And she's tired. Weary to her bones.

Kate feels a swell of sympathy. Embarrassment, too, over her initial hostility to Max.

Kate only remembers some of the things she said yesterday. But she knows she was cruel. She tried to wound Max.

And Max is really just someone trying to make sense of a world that demands too much of her.

She's just like Kate.

Max's eyes open. They're bright blue and impossibly deep. Max says, "So. Kronus' essence is killing me. Is it reversible? Can you tell how long I have?"

Well, obviously there're a _few_ differences between them. Kate wonders if Max knows how intimidating she can be. She hopes that Max doesn't think of her as an enemy.

Kate sips some tea. She answers carefully. "I think you might recover, if we separate you from the essence as soon as possible. But...I'm not sure what will happen when we perform the ritual. I think you'll be sick for...a while."

"It doesn't sound like you're sure about much, Kate." She says it softly, no edge to the words.

"I'm sure you're dying." Kate winces and looks down at the table. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I-"

"Kate. Look at me."

Kate risks it. Max is trying to smile. Somehow, it makes everything worse.

"Kate. You're trying to help. No, you _are_ helping. You don't need to apologise. Just...tell me what you know. Please."

Kate takes a minute to gather her thoughts. Max drinks her tea and lets her gaze wander around the parlour.

When Kate clears her throat, Max focuses her full attention on her.

"W-well...normally, when the person hosting a God's essence dies, one of two things happen. In a bloodline, the essence goes to the next in line. But if a bloodline ends-"

"The essence returns to the God who granted it. How is Kronus' essence different?"

"It's different in that Kronus made different...laws, I suppose, for his essence. In order to ensure the continuity of the monarchy. But it's the same in the sense that, if Kronus' essence can't find the right host, it will return to Kronus Himself."

"So why hasn't it?"

"It's bonded to you. But it's not a true bond. It's...tangled up with your spirit. It can't find it's true host, and...I think it's anchored itself in you so that it _can't_ return to Kronus. It's doing a great deal of damage to you, Max. I don't know how much longer you can-"

"Guess."

"M-months?"

"I told you, you're not good at hiding your feelings. How long?"

Kate looks away. "...maybe a few weeks. I'd say a month at most."

Max purses her lips. "A month? Well, that's awkward. What happens when I die? I mean, does Kronus' essence travel to the rightful heir, or...?"

"I can't be sure. But I think the sorcerer's spell is still blocking it. That's why we can't delay the ritual of transference. We have to guide Kronus' essence out of you, and into the true vessel."

Max is quiet for a while. She pours herself more tea. She takes a mouthful of tea, then puts her cup down deliberately. She says, "No. We're not doing the ritual yet."

"Max! This is serious. The longer we wait, the worse you'll get. The odds of you recovering get worse, there's no reason-"

Max holds up a finger. "Reason one. You need my help. I can't get into Blackwell or counteract the sorcerer if I'm lying around sick. Time is against us."

She raises a second finger. "Two. We don't understand the spell the sorcerer used, so we don't know if the ritual will work. If the ritual fails, and Kronus' essence returns to Kronus, civil war is inevitable. And it won't just be Elysian lives that are lost."

A third finger is raised. "Three." Max frowns. "We're still not seeing the whole picture. We have to know more before we take any major steps. This thing isn't about a coup, Kate."

Kate's eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

Max lowers her hand. She takes another sip of tea. "It's been five years. If someone was planning to remove the king and fill the power vacuum, why wait this long? At this point, anyone short of the true monarch will have to fight the other Dukes to keep the throne. It's going to be chaos. Not ideal for establishing a new dynasty."

Kate tries to follow Max's reasoning. "But...what else can be gained by this? Except the war...but who benefits? The Northern clans? Mermedonia?"

"They benefit. But only indirectly...I don't know." Max shakes her head. "And until I do, no ritual. Unless it's absolutely necessary."

Kate frowns. "We don't know how long it'll take. Finding the sorcerer, I mean. For the sake of your health, it's necessary now."

"I'm just one person, Kate. There are a lot more lives than mine at stake if..."

Max slowly frowns. She mutters, "What if that's the point? The war...the chaos. But why? Gods! What am I missing...?"

She trails off and her eyes unfocus.

A few minutes pass, and Max doesn't move.

Kate hesitates for another minute, shame building inside her, before she reaches out and puts her hand over Max's.

Max flinches but doesn't pull away. "What? Shit. I just-"

"Max. How long have you been feeling the effects? How bad is it? Really?"

For a moment, Kate thinks Max will dismiss the question. But after a brief pause she says, "I don't sleep more than a few hours. I don't eat much, anymore. I'm in pain pretty often. Headaches. Joint aches." She sucks in a breath. "I...black out. Sometimes. Nosebleeds are new. Which is exciting."

"Gods, Max! That's..."

Worse than Kate thought. She can't bring herself to say it, but she doesn't have to.

Max smiles wryly. "Weeks, then. Maybe days?"

Kate says the only thing she can think of, which is nothing. 

Max shrugs. "I'll manage. Don't worry about it."

Kate's hand is still covering Max's. Kate squeezes it gently. "I'm worried about _you_ , Max. I know I was...yesterday, I-"

Max chuckles. "I didn't want to have this talk, but it doesn't seem like such a bad thing, now. You reacted to me so strongly because you're in love with Chloe."

Kate's not sure if she's burning or freezing.

"W-what? No, I...I'm a priestess! I don't-"

"Kate! We both know Aram doesn't require a vow of celibacy." Max smirks. "How bad is it. Really?"

Kate thinks she's going to protest, but she just says, in a tiny voice, "I've never felt like this before. I...think about her. A lot. Gods, I think about her all the time. I'm scared she's..."

"Chloe's okay. I know she's going to recover from those wounds." Max smiles. It's a nice smile, one that reaches her eyes. It's the first time Kate's seen anything soft in them. "Love is a good thing, Kate. You don't have to be afraid of it."

Kate gapes her. " _What_?"

Max carefully turns her hand under Kate's. She clasps Kate's hand. "I don't know what you have with Chloe. But we both know life can be...short. Love's worth the risk of finding out, right?"

"But she...you..."

"I love her. I do. But the last time I saw her before yesterday, we were children, Kate. We were close friends. I hope we still are...it's not the same thing, though."

Kate remembers the way Chloe and Max looked at each other. She's been unable to avoid noticing the way Max says Chloe's name.

She's not quite sure she believes Max. There's something powerful between them. Something Kate's never shared with anyone.

Maybe she's beginning to. Maybe she deserves to? Kate isn't sure.

One thing she has become certain of.

"Max? I vow, in Aram's name, and in Kronus' name: you are not going to die. Not if it's in my power to prevent it."

Max looks stunned. Yesterday, Kate would have been delighted that she provoked that expression. Today, she just holds Max's hand. Tight, so Max knows she's not alone.

Max grips Kate's just as tight.

* * *

It takes less than an hour for Victoria to settle things with the Duke.

It's time enough for Max to have breakfast and get washed and changed into some of Kate's clothes.

Max doesn't say much else and Kate doesn't press her.

The three of them leave together, with an armed escort. No one says anything until they get to Victoria's carriage.

Kate opens the door for Victoria, who climbs in. Max shakes her head at Kate. "I'll make my own way. I've got some things to take care of."

"What? But..." Kate glances at the guards around them. "Alright. Be safe, Max."

Max nods. "You, too. I'll see you tonight, Kate."

Max turns her attention to one of the guards escorting them and Kate follows Victoria into the carriage.

Victoria frowns at her. "I don't trust her. I don't like letting her go off alone."

"I trust her to do what she thinks is best."

Victoria rolls her eyes. "Gods, Kate. That's _why_ you can't trust her. Her idea of what's best could be almost fucking anything. She's spent too long in the Northlands. She won't do what's in Elysium's best interest. She won't do what's in ours."

Kate says nothing to that. She just sits back as the carriage begins to roll and wonders what's worse: Victoria being right, or Victoria being wrong.

* * *

Victoria closes her eyes. Kate watches her gather her focus and concentrate on her oathbond with Chloe.

It takes a few minutes, but then Victoria's lips quirk in a satisfied smirk. "Found her! She's in the docks, I think. A few streets East of the tavern."

Kate sighs. "Thank Aram. Thank Engramma. We should hurry. Or should we find an apothecary first? I suppose Rachel would have got her a healer, but maybe we should-"

"Kate. Stop. There's no we. I'll drop you off as close as I can. Then I'm taking the carriage to the High Temple. I'm meeting Nathan and High Priest Jefferson to discuss the ceremony. You remember? My wedding? That's the only reason the Duke let us out for the day."

"But you have to release Chloe from her vow! She can't fight a duel today!"

Victoria rubs her forehead. "I know. And she won't have to, I promise. I'll rescind the order. But I can't release her from the vow. There's too much at stake, Kate. Chloe can't be reasoned with over Max. You saw that. We need her under control until we can contact the Justicars. And we need Chloe as leverage against Max, too...though we shouldn't use that until we've dealt with the sorcerer..."

Kate stares at Victoria, really studies her. Kate's been so swept up in events, so lost in her own thoughts, her _doubts_ , that she's forgotten why she's here. Kate's almost forgotten who she is.

Kate says, "Victoria? Shut up. Right now."

Victoria looks up, shocked. "What did you-"

"Do you trust me?"

Victoria hesitates.

"It's alright. I know you don't. Not really. You don't trust anyone. Because you've lost faith."

Victoria gapes at her. "Are you insane?"

"No. I'm tired of secrets, lies, and mistrust. You're afraid that you can't control this situation. Well, you're right. But so what? You _never could_! We're in the hands of the Gods, Victoria."

"How can you say that? We're stumbling from one disaster to the next!"

"No. We're getting closer to the truth. Sending Avaradun after us was desperation. The sorcerer is afraid of us! And they should be. Because the Gods are with us. When we needed a way forward, we found Chloe. When we needed a protector, They gave us Max. They are the Gods' agents, Victoria. They are not yours to manipulate or control."

Victoria shivers. "I don't want...I can't..."

" _I_ am an agent of the Gods, too. And I will follow the path They set before me." Kate leans forward, ignoring the bounce and rattle of the carriage. "What are you, Victoria? Are you our ally? Will you follow the path? Or turn away?"

Victoria's pale, her eyes are wide and her lip trembles. "I...have to do my duty, Kate. But I don't know how to do that and make everything _right_! How am I supposed to fix Elysium? I can't just-"

"No one's asking you to fix _everything_ , Victoria. Our purpose is to restore the monarchy. The Gods are guiding us. Have faith! If you trust nothing else, trust Aram. Trust the Gods!"

Victoria slumps in her seat. "I wish it was that easy, Kate. But there's...it's so _big_..."

Kate takes a seat next to Victoria. She puts her hand on Victoria's arm. "I'm scared, too. Yesterday...we faced something terrible. We've all been hurt, even if the wounds aren't visible."

Victoria shudders. "I was...I was completely fucking _useless_. Helpless! I'm supposed to be in charge? To ru-run things? I don't know how to deal with demons! What if I fail again? What if everything I'm doing is _wrong_?"

"Oh, Victoria..."

Kate pulls, gently, and Victoria collapses into her arms.

Kate holds her and looks out the window so that, if she needs it, they can both pretend later that Victoria wasn't crying.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they're back on opposite sides of the carriage, looking out their respective windows. Just a lady and her maid.

Victoria nods at Kate. "Here."

Kate reaches up and thumps the panel behind her. The carriage stops.

A moment later, the captain of their escort opens the carriage door. "Lady Chase? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, thank you. My maid has an errand to run. She'll be getting out here."

He frowns at Kate. "I can only spare one Guard..."

Victoria says, "No need. Kate is visiting a relative on this street. When she's ready, she'll be going straight back to the palace. Could you give us a moment, Captain? Now?"

He salutes and backs away.

Victoria sighs. "Get Chloe to the High Circle. Hire a litter, do whatever it takes. I'll release her from her vow. And if we can't call this farce off, I'll fight Zach in her place."

Kate bows her head. "Yes, Lady Chase."

"We both know she'll enjoy _that_ spectacle."

"Oh, _yes_ , Lady Chase."

Victoria smiles wanly at her.

She says, quietly, "Do you think the sorcerer will really come to the duel?"

"I think it's a chance worth taking."

Victoria nods. Her face hardens. "Yes. It is. We're going to get the bastards behind all this. We're going to see _justice_ done."

Kate climbs out of the carriage. She's about to shut the door when Victoria calls her name.

Kate leans in. "My lady?"

Victoria is looking out the other window. Kate can only see her profile. Victoria's voice is barely more than a whisper when she says, "Thank you. I..."

Kate smiles. "I trust you, too. And you're welcome."

* * *

Kate follows Victoria's directions down the slope of the hill, closer to the docks.

It takes a while to find the right house.

Victoria's sense of Chloe, granted by the oath that binds them, allows her to pinpoint her direction and distance, but it indicates nothing regarding the best route through Arcadia's winding streets.

When Kate's in what she hopes is the right vicinity, she simply starts knocking on doors until the right one opens.

She knows it right away, even though she's never seen the pretty brunette who answers her knock before.

The young woman smiles nervously at her. "Yes? Can I help you...?"

Kate smiles back. "You can. I'd like to see Chloe."

To Kate's surprise, the other girl's smile broadens. "Oh! You must be Kate! I'm Dana. Come in."

* * *

Dana's family's home isn't large, or impressive, or richly furnished. It's well-maintained, comfortable, and full of a sense of caring that's soaked into every timber, every piece of furniture, every wall hanging and ornament.

It's so ordinary on the surface, but so obviously a place in which love, patience, and warmth are the most commonly felt emotions that Kate lets out a gasp when she crosses the threshold.

Dana asks, "Are you alright?"

"I was just admiring your house. It's beautiful Dana."

Dana laughs. "Okay, that's not the usual response. The place is kind of a mess, really..."

Kate shakes her head. "It's the best place I've been to in Arcadia."

And just how true that is makes Kate realise how empty, how...hungry the palace feels. But it's not just the palace. The whole city is...strained. Kate's been feeling it since she got here, but it's only now the she's become _aware_ of it. Arcadia is enduring such tension that it seems incredible that hasn't torn itself apart.

It's a subtler wrongness than Avaradun's presence, but it feels similar. Not demonic, but...like the Gods' Laws are being violated. And the city is suffering. It must be the work of the sorcerer, but if that's true, then maybe Kate can use that to track them down...

Dana clears her throat and Kate jumps. "I'm sorry, I..."

Dana raises her hand. "It's alright. Rachel told me about yesterday. I can't even imagine what it was like."

Kate sighs. "You don't want to."

Dana rubs her arm. "Come on. Let's see if Chloe's awake, okay?"

Kate smiles. Her stomach twists, not unpleasantly. "Okay."

* * *

Chloe is awake.

She's lying on Dana's bed, back propped up with pillows. Her blue hair is on full display, as are her bare shoulders. Kate can just see some bandages over the top of the blanket that covers her.

Chloe's sitting awkwardly, she's paler than usual, and she looks tired, but otherwise remarkably healthy considering she was almost dead a day ago.

Rachel's sitting on a chair by her side. Rachel looks miserable.

Chloe looks angry.

Until she sees Kate, and her eyes brighten, her shoulders relax and she grins. "Kate! Good to see you!"

Kate hopes she's the only one who can hear her heart pounding.

"Oh, Gods, it's so good to see you! You look well. How are you feeling?"

Chloe's grin fades. She glances at Rachel. "There's no good answer to that. Listen, Kate, where's Max? I need to see her."

It shouldn't sting, Kate knows. But it does.

Rachel cuts in, asking, " _How_ is Max?"

Chloe's face tightens. She throws a glare Rachel's way.

Kate hates to admit that Victoria's paranoia has a point, but Chloe isn't ready for the truth about Max. Besides, it isn't Kate's place to share it.

"Hello, Rachel. Max is awake, and doing fine. How's your leg?"

"Mending. Thanks, Kate."

"Right. Yes. Good. Where is Max?"

Kate bites her lip. "Um. She's gone to Blackwell."

Rachel twitches. Chloe seems to stop breathing.

"What?"

Rachel says, "It's alright. I made arrangements. She'll be fine."

To Kate's dismay, Chloe snarls at Rachel, "Oh, one of _your_ arrangements? Fuck you! I need to go after her."

Rachel bows her head, hiding her expression behind a curtain of hair.

Chloe shoves the blanket aside and tries to push herself off the bed.

Kate rushes to her, trying to help without looking or knowing where to put her hands.

Chloe's torso is swathed in bandages. That's all she's wearing.

"Chloe, stop! At least wait until I find you some clothes."

Chloe grunts and flops back onto the bed.

Rachel gets up quickly. "I'll go. Just be a minute."

Kate waits until she's gone and Chloe's covered again before she asks, "What's wrong, Chloe?"

"Nothing much! Just Rachel's been lying to me for years, and Max...she's in danger again. And I won't leave her this time, I-"

"Chloe. I watched Max send the thing that almost killed you screaming into the Void. I think she can handle Blackwell."

Chloe blinks. "She did?" Chloe shakes her head. "She's got demon skills, okay. But I know her. She trips over her own feet. All the time. She's going to need help."

Kate sighs. "Chloe. You're in no condition to go rushing anywhere. And you're forgetting something. You have an appointment at the dueling circle today."

Chloe bangs her head against the wall. "Ow! Shit. Okay, I need your help, then."

Kate doesn't hesitate. "You've got it."

"When I'm dressed, we're going to visit someone who can help Max. And..."

"And?"

Chloe gives her a nervous look. "Uh, this is going to sound weird, but...what do you know about prophets?"

"Prophets? Why? There haven't been any in over a hundred years. Not since the Age of Miracles ended and the Gods became silent."

Chloe rubs her neck. "Yeah. About that..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Let's say June 9th for next time, shall we? Sorry to make you wait a bit longer, but, uh, I got stuff to do.


	18. Truths

When Chloe wakes up the second time, she's lying in a bed.

She doesn't feel any pain. She tentatively runs a hand over her chest, finding bandages and a dressing. She's not sure how, but she knows that her wounds are mostly healed.

It'd feel like more of a miracle if she didn't feel like an old washcloth that's been thoroughly wrung out.

Chloe's throat is parched, but even as she tries to work out if she can speak, her stomach saves her the trouble by growling.

An oddly familiar voice says, "You're awake. Don't try to move!"

"Wasn't...planning...on it."

Dana comes into view. Which explains where Chloe is. Dana is holding a cup. She helps Chloe drink a sip of water sweetened with honey. Chloe almost gags, but makes a weak effort to grab the cup and drink more. Dana pulls away.

"Wait. You have to drink slowly."

"Thirsty."

"Rachel's had Michelle Grant tending to you. She said you'd be thirsty, but you have to start slow. Sip."

It takes a long time to drink a single cup of water. By the time she does, Chloe feels so good she falls asleep again.

* * *

This time it's morning. Dana's gone. Rachel's there instead, asleep on a chair by Chloe's bedside.

Chloe looks around until she spots a cup on the bedside table. She moves carefully and methodically, nursing her strength throughout the gruelling ordeal of picking it up and drinking its contents.

There's a bowl, which turns out to contain some kind of porridge, liberally mixed with honey. It's a bit sweet for Chloe's taste, but she forces herself to eat every bite of it.

She lies there for a few minutes, recovering and watching Rachel.

Even slumped in a chair with her lips parted and her hair dishevelled, she's beautiful.

For the first time in the years of their acquaintance, Chloe finds her appreciation of that beauty is entirely abstract.

Rachel saved Chloe, years ago. Chloe might have recovered from her injuries without Rachel's help, but she wouldn't have survived the despair that filled her after she thought Max had died.

Chloe thinks about all the things Rachel has done for her. She thinks about everything that happened yesterday...no, two days ago, in the Two Whales. She thinks about how Rachel behaved around Max.

It takes her a while to think it all through.

When she's done, she tosses the cup into Rachel's lap.

Rachel jumps and tries to stand up, wincing and dropping back into the chair when she puts her weight on her injured leg. "What the...? Void take you, Chloe! Why would you-"

"The Void almost did take me."

Rachel slumps. "Yeah. Okay, poor choice of words. Uh. Good morning. How are you feeling?"

"Lied to."

Rachel stiffens. "What do you mean? Is this about what Hella told you?"

"Did Juliet make it? Connor?"

"I...yes. They did. Thanks to Max. Chloe, she saved-"

"You weren't renting the Two Whales' back room, were you? Connor worked for you."

Rachel's eyes widen, just a fraction. She says nothing.

"Answer me, Rachel."

Rachel sighs. "No, I wasn't. And yes, Connor works for me. I owned the Two Whales." She closes her eyes. "I own a few legitimate businesses."

Chloe just lets that sit there for a while.

"Max is the forger who was going to make my documents, right?"

Rachel opens her eyes warily. She nods.

"Max isn't charging anyone five hundred marks."

Chloe doesn't know how well she actually knows Rachel, but it's well enough to spot the tremors she's trying to suppress. And the way she tries to distract Chloe by sweeping her long hair behind her shoulders. And the way she avoids Chloe's gaze.

"I didn't know who she was, Chloe. Not until you told me. So whatever this is about, it's not what you think!"

Chloe says, evenly, "Fuck you, Rachel."

Rachel flinches. "I-"

"How much?"

She looks down at her lap. "Fifty marks. Mostly for materials, I think. She was never doing it for the money. I've been trying to figure it out, and I believe Kronus' essence _wants_ to rule. Writing travel papers, other documents, for people who needed them, it must have been...comforting? You know, she even told me she didn't make forgeries. It's true. Who has more right to make decrees in Elysium right now than Max?"

She looks up, winces, and looks away.

"Why, Rachel? You knew how badly I wanted out. You were supposed to help me. You _did_ help me! Why would you-"

"Because you're making a mistake."

Rachel glares at her. There's a cold, determined look in her eye that Chloe's never seen before.

"Chloe. I've know you were blessed since the first night I met you. The things you can do...what you could be! And you want to just...throw it all away and run off to the fucking Northlands? Be a pioneer? A _farmer_? You could be a fucking queen! You could be running Arcadia! The two of us could've-"

"I thought we were friends."

"We are! I was trying to _help_ you! If you'd left the way you were planning, we both know you would've regretted it sooner or...frankly, just sooner. Your whole plan was _pathetic_."

Chloe whispers, "I trusted you, Rachel. First time in years, and..."

Rachel snarls. "You were going to leave everything we've built here! You were going to leave _me_. Is that what friends do? Is that how much trust I'm worth?"

"What _we_ built? I didn't even know until five minutes ago that you owned property. You've been using me. You could've got me out of Arcadia months ago."

Rachel blinks. "I...no, it wasn't like that. I just didn't want you to leave. Yet! I-"

"I want you to leave. Now. We're done, Rachel. I don't want to see you again. Clear?"

"Chloe, please! I know it's bad, I do. But I can make it up to you. I've had Juliet doing some digging and-"

Chloe heaves herself upright. Her left hand shoots out and grabs Rachel's wrist, yanking her forward. Chloe's right hand stops just short of Rachel's throat.

"Get out before I kill you."

That's when they hear footsteps and voices outside. Chloe lets Rachel go and sinks back onto the bed.

Seconds later, Kate's in the room.

In spite of everything, Chloe finds a smile spreading across her face at the sight of Kate.

It helps just knowing she has one friend in the room.

Later, when Rachel leaves, Chloe tells herself she's glad.

* * *

Kate takes the news that the Gods have broken their silence better than Chloe would have imagined.

For a start, she just _looks_ at Chloe like she's crazy, rather than running or hitting Chloe with a chair.

In Kate's shoes, Chloe would have gone with the chair.

For a minute or two, Kate thinks it over. At length she says, "Hella spoke to you? She gave you a mission? To save the _world_?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but..."

Kate shakes her head. "I believe you. I just...I don't understand how one sorcerer could undo _everything_."

Chloe digests that. Kate's acceptance is, in its own way, terrifying. It means Chloe can't just pretend she hallucinated the whole thing.

"That makes two of us. Hella wasn't as forthcoming as I'd like. But she was...convincing."

"Can I ask what else she told you? The first words of a God in over a century..."

"Uh..." It's not just that Chloe's reluctant to tell Kate about the part where Hella propositioned her. It's that looking at Kate, whose eyes are bright and earnest, whose red lips are slightly parted, who is pale and pretty and warm, Chloe's reminded that Hella cloaked Herself in part in Kate's form.

Somehow the implications of that were easy to acknowledge in the Limen. Here, in front of the real Kate, with Chloe naked but for some bandages and a blanket, everything is suddenly very difficult.

"She, uh....was very... _intense_. Personal. I don't think I should repeat everything She said."

"Oh...well...a-about prophets?"

Chloe looks up. "Yeah? What are the, uh, rules?"

"I think that's more a matter for a High Priest to decide, really. You are the first person in an age to receive the words of a God. It doesn't seem like there's a message for everyone in there, though?"

Chloe doesn't like trying to remember Hella and the Limen. Not because it's growing hazy, but because it's too _present_. The memories of that gray and foggy nothing seem to make the edges of the real world blur and soften.

This is too important, though, so she closes her eyes and remembers everything Hella said.

"No," she admits. "What She said matters to everyone, but it was for me. Well, us, I guess. Guess I'm not a prophet, after all."

Chloe opens her eyes. The only thing that's too soft is Kate's smile.

"Maybe not. Maybe you could be a herald, though. The Gods...or, one God has spoken. That's important. The priesthood will support you in your mission." She bites her lip. "Well, they should," she adds softly.

Chloe chews her lip. "What about the nobles? And the citizens?"

Kate frowns. "I think, like you said the other day, the nobles wouldn't want to acknowledge you as a new Chosen. But...bringing Hella's word...that's too big to be ignored. And the citizens will follow the nobles' lead. If you can convince them you're not..."

"Crazy?"

"Yes."

Chloe nods. "Well, that's something to think about at least. First we deal with Max, though. Then we turn the tables on the bastard who set a demon on us. He's been hiding in the shadows all this time. Let's see how much he likes being exposed."

"You've got a plan?"

Chloe's spared having to admit that what she actually has are intentions by Dana coming back with an armful of clothes and Chloe's coat.

She says to Kate, "I'd better get dressed. We'll talk on the way."

* * *

Getting dressed isn't too bad. It's tiring, but there's no pain and her chest feels whole again.

Which is more than can be said for her father's coat.

Avaradun's tentacles burned through her body, and they burned holes through the back of the coat. Worse, Avaradun's touch seems to carry with it some kind of corruption that's still spreading through the fabric.

Parts of the coat crumble at her touch. It's beyond repair.

Chloe suspects that if she had more energy, she'd cry. As it is, she just salvages all the tools and devices she can from the pockets before the coat disintegrates completely.

After that, nothing is easy. Everything takes too long.

Leaving Dana's bedroom.

Walking to the front door.

Saying goodbye to Dana.

Extricating Kate from Rachel's clutches.

Not saying anything to Rachel, but still making a promise that she understands.

Walking down the street with Kate by her side.

Minutes later, leaning on Kate, her arm around Kate's shoulder, Kate's around her waist.

It all takes too long.

At least it doesn't take long for Kate to break the silence that was just beginning to get nice and awkward.

"What happened with you and Rachel? Why are you so angry with her?"

Chloe's too busy making her legs work to clamp down the bitterness that rises within her.

"She's been lying to me for basically the whole time I've known her. I thought we were...friends, but it turns out she's just another person out to use me."

"She cares about you. She's not lying about that."

"Kate, just...tell me what happened at the Two Whales after I got my ass kicked. Tell me everything. Please."

While Chloe breathes and walks and tries not to think about how much weight Kate's bearing without complaint, Kate fills her in on everything that's happened since Avaradun put her down.

Which amounts to Max tricking and defeating the most terrifying thing Chloe's ever encountered and then rushing headlong into everyday, but no less mortal, peril. While trying to use the duel to unmask the sorcerer and Blackwell to reveal the Prescotts' part in all this.

There's lots of other things, about Victoria and the Duke and wedding plans and so on, but Chloe doesn't consider that stuff to be too important right now.

Because even if Max is the Lawspeaker, and even if Kate and fucking _Rachel_ get weird and reverent talking about her, Chloe knows the truth.

Max is an idiot.

Oh, she's clever, and talented, and she found a thousand tiny ways to make Chloe's childhood so happy it hurts to remember. But...she's also a _complete_ idiot.

Max never met something fragile she wouldn't drop, level ground she couldn't trip on, or something valuable she wouldn't spill a drink over.

Chloe will concede that Max might have outgrown some or all of those traits, but one thing is obvious, she hasn't got over the worst of her weaknesses.

She cares too much for everybody but herself. Based on the available evidence, that's something that's gotten worse with age and with the experience of the last five years.

Chloe only stops grinding her teeth when Kate asks, "What's wrong?"

"What isn't?"

Kate laughs. "What specifically?"

Chloe sighs. "Max. Just...trying to get my head around her being here. Alive and here again."

"You must have been very close."

"She was my best friend. Never really had many others. I don't seem to have the knack."

"I...you should make time to talk to her. As soon as you can."

Chloe frowns. "Care to tell me what you're not telling me, Kate? I'm seriously done with fucking secrets."

"I...don't want to keep secrets. Not from you. But I think you should hear it from Max. It's not my place to say. I...please?"

Chloe sighs. "Okay. I trust you, Kate. You and Max."

"What about Victoria?"

Chloe shakes her head. "I don't know. Something she said's been bugging me. Something about...her father..."

Kate doesn't say anything while Chloe revisits her fireside chat with Victoria. Not until Chloe stumbles and almost sends both of them to the ground.

"Chloe! Stop. Let's find a carriage or..."

Chloe shakes her head. "Can't. Wouldn't look right. But we're almost there."

"Chloe? What are we doing here? What are you going to do?"

"About Hella's mission? I have a plan."

Well, she will by the time she needs one. She's pretty sure about that.

Kate's arm tightens around her. "No. About...everything, I suppose."

Chloe grits her teeth. She almost lies, but she thinks of Rachel, and forces herself to say, "I'm going to get out."

"What do you mean?" There's a quaver in Kate's voice.

"I'm leaving, Kate. Leaving Arcadia. Maybe Elysium. That was always the plan. There's a ship setting out, day after tomorrow. I'm going to be on it."

"But, Chloe! You've been blessed-"

"Yeah." Chloe gasps and struggles to fill her lungs. "Aren't I lucky?"

"You have responsibilities. You were Chosen!"

"Yeah. You wanna know why?"

"To save Elysium! To save the _world_ , that's-"

"I was Chosen because I'm an angry person. Hella likes that. That's all. It didn't have to me. It just so happened to be me. Because I was the most fucked up person there that day."

"No, that can't be right. That's not-"

"What? Not how you want the Gods to be?"

Chloe stops and glares at Kate, breathing hard.

Kate just looks sad. "Because that's not who I see when I look at you. That's not who you are, Chloe."

Chloe suspects that if she had the energy, she might handle things differently. As things are, she says, flatly, "I've promised Hella I'll save the world. I've promised myself I'm going to get Max out of trouble. I'm going to take down this sorcerer. I'm going to make sure the new monarch gets Kronus' essence. Then I'm done with Hella. And with Arcadia. I've been trying to get out of here for the last five years. I'm not going to let anyone get in my way again. I'm leaving."

"Alone?"

Chloe laughs. "Odds of that are good, don't you think?"

"You don't have to-"

Chloe chooses to misunderstand. "I do. But that all depends on any of us making it through another couple of days. I've caught my breath. Let's go."

Chloe doesn't look at Kate's face for the rest of the journey. It's only two more streets.

It takes too long.

* * *

The Smokehouse is not particularly imposing.

It's a large, but ramshackle wooden structure. The sign is nothing more than the name burned into a plank nailed above the door.

Arcadia's more innocent citizens can visit and satisfy their need for smoke-cured meats.

Anybody with the least bit of street awareness knows that they can arrange a dingy back room to satisfy their need for the kind of smoke that can only be bought by the pipeload.

Chloe takes a moment to ready herself. She takes her weight off Kate. Kate takes a step back. Chloe tries to suppress a shiver.

Kate asks, "Is this it? Who are we looking for?"

Chloe sighs. "A real asshole."

Chloe pushes open the door.

The front room is adorned with a few threadbare rugs. The counter is a large plank sitting on a pair of barrels.

There are three other doors, all unmarked.

There's a man behind the counter.

It's not much to look at. It's not supposed to be.

But only the least observant Elysian could fail to notice all the little oddities.

There's a pervasive smell of smoke. It's just a little too sweet and heavy to be accounted for by wood and meat.

The man behind the counter is bearded, mean, and has one hand out of sight below the counter. His eyes are violent and he doesn't smile.

And then there's the doors.

One leads to a warehouse and loading area, where the daylight operations are managed. Anyone hanging around for a while will see traffic through the other doors, but none of it relating to meat.

The second door leads to a corridor that leads to more corridors and lots of little rooms.

The third door Chloe's never been allowed to go through. That's the one she's interested in today.

She nods at the man behind the counter. "Frank."

He tenses. "Chloe? What the fuck are you doing here?"

Chloe walks a straight line to the counter and leans on it without wincing. She grins. "Well, Frank. What if I want to smoke?"

He looks Kate over. He snorts. "No. You're cut off. And from what I hear, you're not good for anybody's business. So why don't you turn around and fuck off back to wherever you came from."

Chloe nods. "Well, in that case, just gimme the key to the office."

Frank rocks back on his heels. "Are you out of your mind? I'm not going to-"

Chloe reaches out lazily and grabs Frank's right arm. She drags his arm up onto the counter. The club he was gripping thuds onto the counter when she squeezes.

Frank's face turns white. He gasps in pain. "Fuck! Chloe, let go!"

Chloe squeezes harder. "Frank? Can you guess if I'm in the mood to be fucked with?"

There's the click of a lock. A man's voice says, "Let him go, Chloe. It's me you're here for, isn't it?"

Chloe turns her head. He's standing there, in front of the now opened third door.

Chloe lets Frank go. He retreats out of reach, clutching his arm.

Chloe says, "Hey, Uncle David."

David Madsen sighs. "You'd better come in."

* * *

David's office is big and quiet.

Partly the quiet's down to no one else being in it. Partly it's down to the thick walls.

There's a desk with some chairs in front of it. There's a pair of hardwood chests, padlocked, in the corner. There's a map of the city on one wall, hanging over a scarred table surrounded by chairs.

There are no windows, but there are various peepholes. Some are stuffed with rags, other covered with shutters or panels.

The rugs on the floor are all fairly new, but mismatched, clashing.

They're clean, though. No stains on them at all. And they cover every inch of the floor boards.

Chloe sinks into a seat in front of the desk with a sigh.

Kate sits next to her, darting nervous glances between David and Chloe.

David sits behind his desk. He doesn't take his eyes off Chloe.

Chloe just waits for someone to say something. Speaking seems like too much effort just at that moment.

Kate clears her throat and ventures, "You're Chloe's uncle? I'm her...Kate. Um. I'm Kate."

Chloe says, "David's not really my uncle. He's the guy who pulled me out of the water. He's the guy who kept me under guard for the last five years."

David says, "That was for your own good. But now you're in a lot of trouble, Chloe."

"Oh? So, are you going to lock me in my room again? No food, just water for a week? Like the old days?"

David shakes his head. "Grow up, Chloe. I'm serious. The Magistrate, the Duke...they know you're different. And they want to take you in. Question you. If you'd just been more careful-"

"I could've spent the rest of my life being your prisoner?"

"No! I tried to help you, Chloe! That's all I've tried to do!"

"You're _really_ bad at it."

He yells, "Void take it, I didn't know what to do!"

Chloe doesn't say anything.

David gives Kate a pleading look. "I found her, but I didn't know what to do. I couldn't take her to the Magistrate. I couldn't leave her to the priests!" He turns back to Chloe. "What kind of life would you have had? I _tried_. I...there's nothing I can do, now! I can't...I can't _protect_ you. I've failed..."

To Chloe's horror, David buries his face in his hands. His shoulders shake.

Chloe's had a lot of opportunities to learn how to hate David. She's not sure she knows how to do anything else.

But she doesn't hate the man sitting across from her right now.

She's not sure what she feels.

Kate gives her a look. It's a look that has a lot of faith in Chloe's capacity for mercy.

Chloe's not sure she has any, but she does have a sense of embarrassment at least.

She leans forward. "David. Listen to me."

He scrubs his face with his hands before he risks looking up.

Chloe sighs. "I...look, I..."

She glances at Kate, who gives a tiny nod of encouragement.

David's staring at her.

Chloe says, "I need you to stop being a fucking baby, okay? I need your help."

Kate groans. David's eyes widen. He makes a weird, strangled sound.

It takes Chloe a moment to realise it's a laugh.

He says, "Gods, you are never easy."

There's _pride_ in his voice. He smiles at her. "What do you need?"

"A friend of mine is in trouble. She's up to no good. At Blackwell. I need you to make sure she gets out in one piece with what she's looking for."

"Gods, Chloe! You don't ask for much. Just betray the Magistrate. Not to mention what the Duke will do!"

Chloe points at her bandana-covered head. "Gods are why I'm doing this. Hella spoke to me, David. She's given me a job. My friend's part of it. And so are you."

"A mission from the _Gods_?" He sounds awed.

Chloe nods. "Arcadia's in danger. Right now, my friends and I are all the city's got."

Something kindles in David. He grows an inch. His hands become steady, his voice firm. "You've got me, Chloe. Whatever you need."

Chloe sighs and lets herself relax. "Well, Kate and I could use food. And if you could arrange a carriage for us, that'd be great. I'll tell you what I can while we eat."

David nods and gets to his feet. "Alright, give me a few minutes."

Chloe closes her eyes and tries to think about what she needs to do. She's dismayed to find that she does, in fact, have a plan.

"David?"

He pauses at the door. "Yeah?"

"I'm going to need a sword, too."

Kate gasps. "What? Why do you need a sword?"

Chloe grins. "Don't you remember? I've got a duel to win."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late. I've had a busy week and I needed a bit more time to get this licked into shape.
> 
> I would not have made it this far with this story if I didn't have you guys to write it for. We've a ways to go before the end, but I'm increasingly convinced we'll get there.
> 
> So thanks for taking the ride with me. There would not be much of one without you.


	19. Ink Consequential

Max is escorted from the palace by a bored guard who affords her the courtesy of ignoring her completely.

It takes a long time to get out of the grounds. Max thanks the guard when she finally clears the outer walls. He grunts and slams the gate in her face.

Max smiles. She's content to be regarded with indifference.

Her smile lasts two seconds before it flickers out.

She's not ready to think about what she can't stop thinking about.

Max tries to list all the thing that she needs to do instead.

She needs to go to Blackwell, obviously. And once she's there, she needs to find out what she can.

She needs to find her bag and her tools before she goes to Blackwell.

She needs to check in with Snorri. He'll require...handling. And she has a responsibility to ensure Ref knows he needs to train a new Lawspeaker.

"Shit!" Max hisses. She grinds her knuckles into her eyes, chasing away unshed tears. "I need to see Chloe," she whispers.

Max allows herself one sigh and half a minute of misery. Then she gets moving.

* * *

Max decides to start with her bag.

She doesn't know exactly where it is, making this by far her easiest problem to tackle at the moment.

It could be anywhere. It could have been destroyed. But that avenue of thinking doesn't help her. So she chooses to consider the only likely way she can get it back in time.

Max walks around the outer wall of the palace. As she walks, she thinks about what she would do if she was Rachel and she wanted to make contact with Max. By the time she's reached the main gate, she has a plan.

She heads away from the palace. Downhill, in the general direction of the docks.

Max looks around her carefully. She doubles back and tries a few different streets until she finds what she's looking for: a wide avenue, lined with various businesses, including a coach rental.

Max walks towards the rental, but she scans the other side of the street, looking for...there!

A tea house with an excellent view of the coach rental, within easy walking distance of the palace for someone travelling in the direction of the docks, on a street with a number of commercial ventures and a lot of people coming and going from all over the city.

Max crosses the street and goes into the tea shop. She smiles slightly when she sees Rachel's associate, Juliet, sitting at a table near the window. Juliet's so focused on watching the rental, she doesn't see the person she's looking for until Max sits across from her.

Juliet's head whips round when she catches the movement out of the corner of her eye. She gapes at Max.

"Hi, Juliet. How are you doing? Did you bring my bag?"

Juliet nods slowly. "I...yes, I did. Hi, Max. Uh, I guess you saw Rachel already?"

Max shakes her head. "No, I just got out of the palace." Max decides there's no need to use words like 'coma' or 'dying'. "It took...a while to get away."

"Wait, how did you-"

Max tries not to grit her teeth. "I figured Rachel would want to make contact as soon as possible. Either I'd leave the palace in a coach and head to the docks, where I'm sure Rachel has eyes out. Or I wouldn't have transport. This is the most obvious place to wait if you're trying to spot someone leaving the palace on foot and looking to get to the docks in a hurry. I'm just lucky she sent you."

It would probably have taken minutes Max doesn't feel like spending working out who another of Rachel's people might have been.

Max is surprised when Juliet's confusion is replaced with a large, knowing grin. "Gods! This is perfect. Rachel is _so_ fucked," she announces cheerfully.

And now Max is the one gaping, which just makes Juliet laugh.

"I don't know what you-"

Juliet snorts. "Sure. Because Rachel's really subtle. Anyway, here we go!" Juliet reaches under the table. She comes back up with Max's bag. "Rachel insisted I go back for it. She said you'd want it as soon as possible."

"Thank you. Really." Max realises she's been rubbing the back of her neck. She stops, takes the bag, and puts it on her lap. She resists the urge to open it and check the contents. She's surprised by how comforting the scuffed leather feels. "I need this for Blackwell."

The last of Juliet's smile fades. "You're still going? Even after..." Her eyes dim. She spills some of her tea when she takes a hasty gulp.

"Juliet?"

She looks up, reluctantly.

"It'll take time, but it will get better. That thing...it can't hurt anyone anymore. It's okay to not be okay for a while. Just...don't let it fester."

Juliet takes a sip of tea. She puts the cup down and fiddles with it. After a moment's quiet she blurts, "How are you so _calm_?"

Max shrugs. "I'm used to not being okay. Thanks again, Juliet."

She gets up and slings her bag over her shoulder. She turns to go.

"Max?"

She looks back. Juliet's worrying her lip.

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you going to ask...?"

Max wasn't. Because, apparently, she's a fucking coward. Max closes her eyes. "How is Chloe doing?"

"She's...recovering. She woke up for a few minutes last night. Considering...well, she's healing really quickly. She's going to be fine."

Max opens her eyes. She smiles at Juliet. "Everyone's going to be fine. You'll see." And if it's a lie, it's a kindness, too. "Bye, Juliet. My regards to Rachel."

Juliet smirks. "Oh, she'll interrogate me for every detail of this conversation, Max. Uh...what about Ch-"

"I'll tell her myself. Soon."

This time, it's a vow.

* * *

Max has a few marks in her pockets thanks to Kate. She puts them to use hiring a coach. She prefers walking, but time is against her.

She doesn't have to think too hard before telling the driver to take her to Blackwell.

Snorri will have to wait. He's going to be angry that she disappeared. He's going to be suspicious. She'll need to have as clear a picture of what's happening in Arcadia as she can before she confronts him.

Chloe will have to wait, too. If only because Max isn't sure how functional she'll be once they're reunited. Chloe has a way of making Max's other priorities seem vanishingly small.

As she sinks into the coach's seat, Max thinks about Chloe.

Finding out that she's Hella's Chosen was a shock. But that's the obvious reason why she survived Avaradun. And why she's healing so quickly.

Max feels a pulse of pressure as Kronus' essence stirs inside her. She sighs. She hoped it would sleep for a while longer.

"Okay, I know. Just because a reason's obvious, it doesn't mean it's the right reason. Or the only reason. I'm trying to keep an open mind, which is easier when it doesn't feel like my brain is an a vice."

The pressure eases off. She has a headache and her legs are achey, but it's not too bad.

Rather than think about the _other_ reason Chloe might be recovering so quickly, Max says, "So...I have an idea. Something I want to do for Chloe. I think you'll like this one, Kronus."

She whispers her idea to the lost fragment of an absent God that's been slowly killing her for five years.

When she senses it's approval, she smiles and closes her eyes and thinks about nothing at all for the rest of the trip.

* * *

Max is unprepared for how much prettier Blackwell is than she remembers.

The main building has always been imposing but elegant. But the gardens are new, and beautiful.

She's not oblivious to the number of armed guards on the grounds, but she's more interested in the flowers and the soothing sound of running water.

Max is led inside the main building by one of the eight guards she's spotted so far.

As she walks up a flight of stairs, Max is forced to admit that she's nearly out of plan at this point.

Beyond getting inside, Max doesn't really know how she's going to find dirt on Duke Prescott. She pushed getting into Blackwell as hard as she did with Snorri more to find out what she could about Chloe than to help the Northern clans make a better deal with the Duke.

She imagined she'd have days, at least, to look for patterns in public edicts and business documents. She imagined she'd have time to work out how best to winnow out Blackwell's darker secrets.

She doesn't have days. Which means that _Elyisum_ doesn't have days. Which is a terrifying thought to carry with her into Magistrate Wells' office.

It's a big room, lined with shelves full of scrolls and books from all over Elysium and beyond.

Magistrate Wells is sitting behind his desk, sweating lightly though it's not particularly warm.

"Ah, our new colleague!" Wells smiles, and waves away Max's escort.

Max offers a nervous smile and a curtsey. "Good morning, Magistrate Wells. It's an honour to be offered the opportunity to work here."

Which isn't even a lie. In another age, this place was Max's dream.

Wells chuckles. "There's no need to be so formal. Come! Sit, sit."

Max unslings her bag and sits opposite him. She studies Wells carefully.

There's a whiff of alcohol on his breath. His gestures are sloppy. His robes of office are silk, and look new, but there's already a stain on his sleeve that isn't ink.

His eyes are sharp, though.

"Now, Miss...uh...?"

"Caulfied. Maxine Caulfield."

He smiles and nods. He watches her. "Maxine? Fine, fine. Before I set you to work, I will need to see your skills in action."

Max nods. "Of course! What would you like me to do?"

The next half hour is almost pleasant. Wells asks her to write a series of sentences in a variety of hands. He's bemused when she digs out her own quills, but his smile slowly changes to one of appreciation as he watches her work.

"Where did you study?"

Max smiles wistfully. "Here, actually. I was taught my forms by Adam Pinkhurst. He was an inspiring role model. I spent two years here. I always dreamed of coming back."

Wells is staring at her, puzzled. Maybe suspicious. "I remember Adam. When he left for Canter, I was...relieved. He was one of the sloppiest scribes I've ever known."

Max nods. "Oh, he was! I was inspired to do better than him. It hurt to see what he did to innocent vellum."

Wells chuckles. "Gods, you're not wrong!" Suddenly, he slaps the desk and roars, "He was your _role model_!"

Without meaning to, Max finds herself laughing with Wells.

Wells' mirth subsides after a few moments. "I trust, Miss Caulfield, you won't tell anyone I did that?"

Max looks him in the eye. "Your secrets are safe with me, Magistrate Wells."

His expression grows distant as his eyes roam around the room. He sighs. Max doesn't turn her head but she notes exactly where he's looking when he does. Wells looks back at her and smiles, sadly this time. "Well, that's the only one I'll trouble you to keep. Put that quill away. I've seen enough."

He stands up and comes around the desk. "My only question at this point is, why didn't you come to me sooner? You'll be an asset here, Maxine."

It cuts her. She drops her quill and fumbles after it. By the time she's gathered herself enough to face Wells, she's surprised to see that sad smile still on his face.

"I remember what it was like, getting my dream. You've nothing to be embarrassed about. Take a minute, and then I'll show where you'll be working."

"Thank you, Magistrate Wells. I...thank you."

Max doesn't know how to feel when she leaves the office. She's just discovered that there's some part of her that never abandoned her childhood dreams. It might even have felt good, for a second, to have earned a place here.

But she just used those same memories to exploit a man who's clearly drowning in the evil he's done, but is still able to find the better person he once was.

Max feels no kind of triumph that she's tricked Wells into showing her where he's hiding his secrets with a sigh. She just feels sorrow for what the years have taken from them both.

* * *

Her work place proves to be a seat at a long table in a long, open room that is full of sunlight. She remembers this place, though she was seldom allowed in it. She did most of her study in the library below or one of the training rooms upstairs.

There have been refinements made to the workspace. Mirrors have been arranged high up on the walls to catch and reflect as much light as possible over the tables where the scribes work, whether it's natural light or lamplight.

The head clerk sits at a high desk at the far wall. There are pages moving smoothly between the tables and the desk and the cupboards where supplies are kept.

There's a pulse to this room; a buzz of activity, a sense of purpose, and pride, and Max takes it all in with wide eyes and a sense of wonder.

She has to bite back a curse when Kronus' essence starts to squeeze her. As if she needs to be reminded why she's really here.

Max is given a stack of incredibly boring documents to copy. Undemanding, relatively unimportant, but necessary work.

Also, from Max's point of view, _useful_ work. She sifts through until she finds a likely looking charter. She makes a few swift modifications to the original, then places it in the middle of the stack.

She sets to work. It's easy to keep to her quota and still find time to work on a few other, more personal things.

It's _too_ easy. Hours pass and she gets absorbed in the work and thing in her head is so satisfied by what she makes for Chloe that Max loses herself entirely. She doesn't notice the man watching over her shoulder until he stirs and his shadow falls over her.

Max looks up. Then she looks around, eyes widening, as she realises that the room is almost empty.

"I didn't mean to startle you. I confess, I was curious to see what had you so absorbed."

His voice is confident, but gentle. Lilting.

He steps back so he isn't looming over her. He's tall, has short brown hair and a neatly groomed beard. He's wearing robes, but he's not a scribe or clerk. He's in his early forties, she thinks, but he looks fit and confident.

"Oh! Uh, you're-"

He smiles. "High Priest Jefferson. I spend almost as much time here as I do on church ground. Politics, partly. But I also enjoy having access to the scrolls here. And I like watching talent at work."

Max stands up and curtsies. Jefferson inclines his head, his smile widening. While he's distracted, Max twitches a boundary charter over her unsanctioned work.

"I'm sorry, I was distracted...uh, where did everyone go?"

Jefferson waves towards the rear of the building. "The refectory. It's lunch time. Come, I'll show you."

Max follows him. She doesn't have much choice.

He asks, "What were you working on?"

"It's my first day, so mostly copying charters and letters for the archives. Nothing exciting, but..."

"But you approached the task with focus. With enthusiasm. And considerable skill. Which is exactly how the Gods want us to work. Not just to work, but to live! I apologise again for disturbing you, but I was simply entranced. You have a beautiful hand."

Max feels Kronus' essence...shift. It seems to slide away from her and sink inside her simultaneously.

She winces. "Th-thank you, my lord."

He holds the door into the corridor open for her. "Ah, technically I'm a grace, not a lord. But don't worry. I gather you're new to Arcadia?"

Max doesn't look at him, fighting the muscles in her neck which make her want to turn her head sharply. "I...am. But how did you know that, your grace?"

"You're too talented not to have come to my attention before. Which means that you're new. To Blackwell, at least!"

His tone is light but his gaze feels heavy on her.

"I used to live here, i-in Arcadia, I mean. But I moved away for a few years. I'm...glad to be back."

Max suddenly wishes that Chloe was here. Maybe because whenever she used to trip over her words this badly, Chloe was usually nearby. Max hid behind her a lot when they were younger.

The refectory door is just in front of her, the sounds of eating and talking offering another sort of hiding place. High Priest Jefferson leans against the doorway, blocking her from it.

"Ah, travel is a blessing. It's amazing the things we can learn. Wherever did you roam, I wonder? And what brought you back here, hmm?"

She does look up at him, then.

He's smiling. It's a rather smug expression, at odds with his gentle voice.

Max's hands itch. She wants to make fists of them and weapons of her words.

Instead, she ducks her head and wrings her hands. "I went to Canter, your grace. I have family there. I came back...for this place. There's no greater scriptorium in Elysium."

"Ah, I admire your passion. Duke Christensen must have admired it, too."

"I wouldn't know, your grace. I-I never met the duke..."

"Strange. Why would he let you travel, then? In these times, powerful people like to keep talent close. Is Canter so much less strict in its application for travel documents? Or did the Duke just not realise what he had in you?"

"I'm nothing special, I-"

"You have skills superior to most of the scribes here. And you're the youngest scribe in that hall. That's...impressive. Talents like that, in a world this cruel...I'm glad no one's tried to exploit you, my dear. I would hate to think of what that might do to someone of your gentle spirit."

Max feels blood rushing to her face. She hopes he'll mistake it for a blush. "You are...too considerate. I don't merit that sort of attention."

"Oh, I think you do. But! I'm keeping you from your well-earned meal. And I do have duties to attend to. There's a duel at the High Circle I've been invited to attend. It's a barbaric custom, but how can a humble servant such as I refuse Duke Prescott?"

"With great circumspection, your grace?"

He laughs. "Ah, not just a talent with letters, but with words! I wonder what else you're hiding?"

Max risks a peek at his face. His eyes glitter and his lips are quirked up.

"Just my hunger, your grace."

"Well, enjoy your meal, Max." He pushes away from the doorframe and steps aside.

Max takes a fraction of a second to decide between not reacting and expressing her confusion that he knows the preferred form of her name.

A fraction of a second proves far too long.

Jefferson grins. "Ahhh. You're _very_ talented, Max. But not a natural deceiver, I think. That's something to be proud of, by the way. The Gods love not a deceiver."

Max briefly considers brazening things out, but one look at him is enough to dissuade her. So she straightens up, lets her hands drop and stares in him in the eye. "I'll defer to your superior understanding of deception."

There's just a fraction of a second where his jaw tightens and his eye hardens. Then he tips his head back and laughs. "Oh, Max. I have a feeling we're going to be friends. I really must be going, but...a word of advice?"

Max doesn't try to hide her confusion. "Advice?"

"You've made it this far, but before you go in there?" Jefferson indicates the refectory behind him. "Give some more thought to the details of your story. I don't know what _really_ brings you here, Max, but I look forward to finding out. I'd hate for one of the guards here to overhear you telling a scribe you came from Canter. Duke Christensen sealed the city six weeks ago. Travel is very strictly controlled."

"You're...well-informed. I hadn't heard anything about that."

"Some of my priests are visiting the temple of Crikos, in Canter City. They've not been permitted to leave. I've had no success in negotiating their travel papers. So when I see a young scribe, new to Arcadia? Cheaply dressed? If she tells me she just came from Canter, she'd _have_ to be a spy. And the guards here will likely take that view, too. And they don't react well to spies."

Max chews that over. "Why are you telling me this?"

He shrugs. "I admire talent. I hate to see it go to waste. And the care of Blackwell isn't my duty. Take care, Max. I look forward to our next meeting." He smiles, and inclines his head.

"I'm sure it will be interesting, your grace." Max inclines her head to the exact same degree, startling another laugh from him.

She watches him leave, and tries frantically to work out why he did...any of it.

There's too much to process right now. Her heart is pounding and her mind is being pulled in a dozen different directions.

Max takes a minute to clear her thoughts and just breathe.

When she feels better, she's no less confused, just less interested in solving the High Priest Jefferson puzzle. One thing is clear: Max is going to have to be far more careful. She doubts she'll get this lucky again.

Then she remembers that look in his eye, there for just a fraction of a second. There for far too long. She wonders if she was lucky this time.

* * *

Max doesn't go to the refectory. She goes back to the empty workroom.

So she takes a few minutes to finish what she started for Chloe. One document only requires the Magistrate's seal. The ink is dry, so she folds it up and puts it in her bag. The other document requires the last few lines to be written. She adds them, and signs her name at the bottom. She bites her lip and worries for another minute before she adds a few more lines below the signature.

She takes the unrolled vellum to the supply cupboards and pours sand over it to dry the ink. When she's satisfied that it won't smear, she folds it up and tucks it carefully inside her blouse.

She goes back to the work table and gathers her writing implements. She puts them back into her bag and slings it over her shoulder. She starts to leave, but pauses at the door.

Max doubles back and raids the supply cupboards for vellum and ink. Small quantities, not likely to be immediately missed. Once her bag is loaded again, she leaves the workroom behind her.

Her days as a forger are probably over, but why take the risk of running out of supplies?

Her next stop is the library. There's a guard there, but she's not the only scribe skipping lunch to read. Max smiles shyly at the guard. He ignores her.

The library is a cool, dim space in Blackwell's cellar. Light is provided by lamps fixed to the walls and ceiling. No candles or naked flames are permitted.

The air is dry, but not unpleasantly so. At least, Max doesn't find it unpleasant. There's nothing like this in the Northlands. She's missed this kind of air.

There are tables and chairs set up in various sections between the many rows of shelves. Max knows that the rarest and oldest works are kept in a vault behind the main library. But while there are any number of books she'd love to read, what she _needs_ is in the open section.

She doesn't have a lot of time, but the cataloguing system hasn't changed in the last five years, and she finds what she's looking for quickly.

Charters, letters, deeds: the legal transactions of the Prescott family, all contained in three racks of shelving.

The sheer volume of documents, and the need to be able to rapidly consult or copy them, means that it's far more convenient to store them where they can most easily be accessed.

Blackwell's security means that it's unlikely that anyone dangerous to the Prescotts will get down here. Besides, there's nothing scandalous in all this vellum. There's no single document that will expose the Prescotts' darkest secrets.

That's enough reason to make Magistrate Wells think that this arrangement is safe.

Max allows herself a grin as she dumps her bag on a nearby table and starts working her way through the scrolls.

Wells is so very, very wrong.

Max isn't looking for any one thing. She's going to look at _everything_. She is going to hunt for the patterns, seek the shape of the Prescotts' secrets in the margins and between the lines. She's going to see what they've been up to since the storm hit Arcadia.

She's going to find the truth.

It would take days, really, to go through these properly. But Max made her acquaintance with these charters under Adam's tutelage, and she's just spent her morning working on more of them. It's still far from ideal, but she should have just enough time to build some kind of picture of the Prescotts' dealings.

And even if it doesn't help find the sorcerer, it's information that _will_ help the Northern clans in their negotiations with Sean Prescott.

Max works through the rest of lunch, and beyond. She gets some curious glances from the scribes as she pulls scroll after scroll, skims through them, then puts them back. A few scrolls she piles neatly beside her bag at the table before going back for more.

After an hour, the pile is getting quite big and she's still on the first rack.

A librarian approaches her, frowning. "Excuse me. I don't recognise you. May I ask what you're doing?"

Max sighs and carefully replaces the scroll she was reading. "I'm new here. Well, I'm just working as a replacement. Temporary, and-"

"If that's the case, you have no business being _here_. You're going to have to come with me."

Max pushes her hands into her hair and groans. "Wait! You see, I've been working on charters all morning. Copy work, mostly. But there's one relating to a new demarcation of farmland bordering the Prescott estate and it's _smudged_!" Well, it certainly is _now_ , after careful effort on Max's part."Right in the section describing the new boundary line! If I can find the right charters here, I can work out where the line should be and I can finish the copy."

He blinks. "Oh...but, you should really just take that to the head clerk."

Max shakes her head. "I know, but...he'll probably assume I'm at fault. And then I could lose this job. But if I fix this mistake, well...the magistrate might think about making my position a permanent one. I just need a little more time. Please?"

He sighs. "Just make sure you put everything back. And I can't let you take anything out of the library."

"Thank you! And I won't, of course!"

He leaves her to it. Max feels another twinge of guilt. Maybe deception doesn't come naturally to her, but she's been getting a lot of practice lately.

Max isn't sure she likes how easy it's become.

* * *

It takes another two hours, but Max gets through most of the Prescott documents.

She doesn't take notes. She doesn't want to risk further questioning from any of the librarians. She'll have to make notes from memory, later, of some of the more intriguing tidbits she's uncovered.

Max has enough information to draw a few conclusions, though.

After the storm, Duke Prescott began turning some of his personal and ducal holdings into silver. There's no indication where most of that silver went, though some of it was poured into repairing, expanding, and strengthening the harbour.

Max doesn't think it's a particularly wild guess to imagine that the unaccounted for money hasn't been sitting idle. She imagines mercenary hires, bribes to Northern chieftains, Mermedonian princes, and possibly other dukes.

It's obvious that Duke Prescott has been gearing up for war. But it's been obvious to all the Dukes since King Gregor died that war was likely. Max would be amazed if all the other Duchies weren't making similar arrangements. What's interesting about the timing of these events is that Duke Prescott only began to make these plans _after_ the storm. If he'd been behind it, he would have begun his preparations before it hit.

More interesting still, his need to raise money clearly intensified roughly six months after the storm hit, and whatever it was spent on doesn't appear in the scrolls she's looked through.

Duke Prescott's a cunning and ambitious man, but it would take something extraordinary to make him sacrifice the family holdings the way he has. He learned something almost six months after the storm that has had him invest almost _everything_ into planning for war.

It looks like Duke Prescott didn't know the storm was coming. It looks like _someone_ told him what might be coming afterwards.

And if that's true, then Duke Prescott knows who the sorcerer is.

He must be working with them.

* * *

Max goes back to the workroom. She anticipates a scolding, but while she was ill-preparer for Jefferson's questions, she thinks she can handle anything the head clerk throws at her, particularly since Wells will be presiding over the duel.

Chloe's duel.

Before that thought has a chance to take root, she slips into her seat and goes back to her copying.

A few nearby scribes glance at her, but her return over an hour late seems to draw no more attention than that.

Max works steadily until a hand touches her shoulder.

She turns, ready to explain herself to the clerk.

Instead, she's faced with a dark-haired, moustached man in a guard's uniform. 

He growls, "Maxine Caulfield?"

All the scribes are staring at her.

"Y-yes?"

"You're coming with me. You've got a _lot_ of explaining to do.

His hand clamps on her upper arm and he hauls her out of her seat. He stoops and seizes the strap of her satchel in his free hand.

Before Max can think of anything to say, he drags her out of the workroom. She stumbles along behind him, up the stairs and into an empty room where she's unceremoniously dumped into a chair.

It's one of the old teaching rooms. The only furniture in the room is the chair Max is sitting on.

Max can't help but notice that there are stains on the floorboards around the chair.

Moustache snaps, "Wait here."

He locks the door behind him when he leaves.

Max looks around the dim, empty room. The only way out is through a locked door. After that, there's just the problem of armed guards to deal with.

And it won't be long before Wells comes back. At which point, Max suspects she'll get to learn first hand what Blackwell guards do to spies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Gimme ten days, and I'll give you the oft-mentioned and quite possibly thrice-cursed duel. I mean, I have no idea how many times _you've_ cursed it, so it's hard for me to be precise here.
> 
> If you want to comment on anything, be it ever so critical, I'll be delighted to hear from you!


	20. Circles

Kate can't think of anything to say and Chloe doesn't speak after David leaves.

The silence is strangely comfortable. Maybe because when they talk, they talk about problems the size of a city, a country, a world.

In the quiet minutes that David is gone, they can pretend they're just two friends spending time together.

It's as much as Kate dares to pretend in that moment. In that moment, it's enough.

* * *

David comes back with Frank and several trays laden with bread, meat, fish, fruit, and water.

No tea, though. Chloe smiles when Kate fails to hide her disappointment.

Frank stays long enough to put what he's carrying on David's desk and glare at Chloe.

When he goes, they eat and Chloe talks.

Talking around her food, Chloe tells David about Hella, Max, the sorcerer, and the demon. Chloe doesn't tell David about Kronus' essence, or Victoria's part in all of this. Chloe tells him as much as she needs to, and no more.

Chloe's still oathbound not to reveal Victoria's mission, of course, but Kate wonders if Chloe would have told David all those things even if she could. Kate suspects that Chloe would not.

Chloe's trust only extends so far.

Kate tries not to worry about that. She eats without tasting anything and forces herself to stay in the present.

It doesn't seem to bother David that there are gaps in Chloe's story. After hearing Hella's name invoked, the urgency in Chloe's voice when she talks about Max is the only other thing David needs to hear.

Kate keeps quiet throughout their conversation. She keeps quiet when Chloe finishes talking and David gives Chloe a sword and scabbard he takes from a battered chest.

Kate tries not to stare at the weapon. It's a straight sword. It looks heavy. Kate thinks about how much of a struggle the walk here was for Chloe.

She says nothing, even when David catches her worried look and raises an eyebrow. Kate just pushes what's left of her fish stew over to Chloe.

Chloe beams at her. "Thanks, Kate. I'm _starving_."

Kate chuckles. She finds her voice, saying, "It's not the first time I've seen you eat, remember?"

"Yeah...looks like it's going to end the same way, though."

"No jumping through windows this time, I hope."

David shakes his head. "I heard about the fight at the White Leaf Tea House. Should've guessed it was you."

Chloe ladles fish into her mouth. "I fought it wash...ulp...your people for a while."

"Nope. Wells told me to find you, but that was later."

"Tanner's men?"

"Doubt it. They don't work so openly out there. And whoever they were, they got into a real battle with the Ducal Guard. Tanner's men are smarter than that."

"Well, could you find out who they were? Guard must have caught some of them. And it could help."

David strokes his moustache. "Maybe. My pull with Wells isn't what it was."

"How come? Oh." One moment, Chloe's calmly discussing gangs, plots and intrigue. The next she's a young girl anticipating a scolding. "I, uh...I didn't think this would come back on you..."

David snorts. "You not thinking? I'm shocked."

There's a hint of a smile on David's lips, but Chloe's face tightens. Kate reaches out instinctively. She touches Chloe's knee. Just a couple of fingertips worth of warmth and pressure.

Chloe blinks and relaxes. She offers Kate a weak smile. "David...I didn't mean to get you in any trouble. Things started happening really quickly and..."

"It's okay. I made my choice five years ago. Wells and I have been pulling in different directions since. Now it's just out in the open."

"Shit. Will this be a problem?" Chloe puts her empty bowl down and rubs her palms on her trousers. She adds, guiltily, "I mean, with helping get Max out? Not that it's not important if it causes you a problem...I mean-"

David shrugs. "I don't really care. You asked for my help. You're getting it. End of conversation."

Chloe rubs the back of her neck. She seems lost for words.

Kate says, "Thank you, Mr. Madsen."

He chuckles. "David's fine. I'll go get you your coach. Send some messages." David gives Kate a long, appraising look. "You look after her while I'm gone?"

Kate nods. "Yes. I promise."

He smiles. "Good."

Chloe waits until he's left the room before she mutters, "That's too much to ask anyone."

Kate's not sure if she's supposed to have heard that, so she doesn't say anything. But she touches Chloe's knee again, and she smiles at Chloe and she hopes that it's enough.

Chloe shifts in her seat. Kate withdraws her hand.

She watches quietly while Chloe finishes every scrap of food in front of her.

When the plates and bowls are all licked clean, Chloe turns her attention to the sword.

She picks it up and unsheathes it.

Kate watches Chloe take a practice swing. Chloe curses as the swing pulls her off balance. She stumbles into David's desk and leans on it heavily.

Kate tries to keep her voice level when she says, "You're not in any shape to fight."

Chloe's expression becomes sullen. "This is heavier than I'm used to."

"Chloe! I pray that Crikos will give you strength, but you're not ready. And you don't have to do this. Victoria will release you from your oath. She'll fight in your place, if it comes to that!"

"It'll come to a fight. _Honour_ demands a fight. And it's not Crikos, or Kronus, that matter today. I'm Hella's Chosen. I've been...running from that. Hiding. But it's time I did something with it."

"What sort of something?"

Chloe grins. "Something very public. Something that will hopefully force our sorcerer out into the open."

Kate watches Chloe sheathe her sword. The point weaves in the air so much it takes her two tries to find the mouth of her scabbard.

They don't say anything after that.

Even when David comes back, Chloe doesn't say much. She just thanks him and twitches her arms like she's thinking about hugging him.

She doesn't, though.

Kate does, surprising Chloe and shocking David.

Kate says, "Thanks for your help. All of it."

David stands awkwardly for a moment. When Kate shows no sign of loosening her hold, he gingerly pats her back twice. "Uh, you're welcome..."

Kate whispers, "I swear I'll look after her. Especially when she doesn't want me to."

David puts his hand on her shoulder and squeezes. His hands are rough but his grip is gentle. Kate steps away.

Chloe sighs. "We'd better go."

Kate follows her out into the street. She stands beside Chloe when they get to the coach and lets Chloe lean on her shoulder when Chloe climbs in.

When the coach gets moving, Chloe says, "Thanks, Kate."

Chloe says it so quietly Kate almost thinks she imagines it.

"You're welcome, Chloe."

* * *

They stop at David's house first. Chloe gets changed upstairs while Kate wanders around trying to get a sense of what Chloe's life has been like.

Unlike Dana's house, there's not much she can sense here. There's no kindness, comfort, or love. It's just a place two people sleep in, eat in, and sometimes argue in.

David has more bottles of whiskey than keepsakes. The few that he has lying around are those of a soldier: a bronze arm ring, a blunt dagger, a cloak pin. All Northern clan designs.

Kate doesn't poke around in David's bedroom. She finds another door, locked, and wonders what's behind it. She wonders if Chloe knows. Kate thinks about that for a second and decides the better question is, how old was Chloe when she first picked the lock?

Kate goes to the kitchen. Her impulse is to make tea. But she finds more alcohol than food, and only a little stale coffee, and no tea at all.

Kate sighs and goes upstairs. She hesitates but decides to knock on Chloe's door.

There's the sound of a muttered curse from within. "Yeah? You okay, Kate?"

"I am. Are you...do you need any help?"

There's a long, long silence.

Chloe growls, "Fuck." In a louder voice, she adds, "Come in, Kate."

Chloe's room is larger than Kate expects. It's messy, which doesn't surprise her, and it's got far more personality than the rest of the house.

Not that Kate takes much of it in because Chloe's sitting half naked on her bed with shirt in her hands and a sullen set to her jaw.

Kate's eyes are drawn to the bandages around Chloe's chest. Until an irresistible force drags her eyes down to the pale expanse of Chloe's stomach.

"I can't get my shirt on."

Kate whips her head up. Chloe is looking anywhere but at her, and she's...blushing?

"Uh, right. Let me help you. Stand up a minute?"

Chloe does. Kate tries to keep her eyes away from Chloe's skin as she moves behind her.

Chloe passes her the shirt and helps her get her right arm through the sleeve.

"Chloe...if you can't put on a shirt..."

Chloe grunts. "My chest doesn't hurt. But it feels like it should. It feels...weird. Can't lift my arms up past shoulder height. But I can work around that."

Kate bites her lip. "Other arm."

Between them, they get the shirt on. Chloe buttons it herself, but by the time she's done, her hands are shaking and there's a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Chloe sits on her bed. Kate sits next to her. Not too close. They both look at the floor.

"Avaradun really fucked me up, huh?"

"I thought you were going to die. It's a miracle you're moving at all."

"Hella's miracles could be...more miraculous."

Kate says, "Chloe. Be honest with me. Do you really think you can beat Zach?"

"Ordinarily, yeah. Right now?"Chloe wipes the sweat off her brow with a corner of her blanket. "If I got at him from behind, maybe. In a duel? Even on a good day, probably not."

"I'm not sure I understand."

Chloe tugs off her bandana and runs her fingers through her hair. Kate tries not to stare. Luckily, Chloe's too busy thinking of what to say to notice.

"It's like we talked about before, Kate. The odds are stacked in the nobles' favour. Someone like Zach, he isn't just a trained warrior. He's a trained _duelist_. He knows all the rules. All the tricks. All the ways to exploit them, too. People like me...we're supposed to lose if we step into the High Circle."

"Isn't that all the more reason not to fight him?"

"Yeah. A few days ago I'd have taken any out I could. Gods, this morning, even..."

Kate pulls a leg up onto the bed and turns to face Chloe. "What changed your mind?"

Chloe sighs. She smiles sheepishly and meets Kate's eyes. "You."

Kate recoils. "What? I don't want you to fight!"

Chloe shakes her head. "I know! That's not what I...I'm not sure how to explain this. But...when I said people like me aren't supposed to win? You've been telling me, over and over, that I'm different. I'm Chosen." Chloe's voice hardens. "You're right. It needs to count for something."

Kate doesn't sound certain at all when she says, "You're already making it count!"

"That's not what you said this morning. And you were right." Chloe closes her eyes. "I'm still leaving. But I'm going to do something because I can, not because the world will end if I don't. It doesn't matter that I'm not going to beat Zach."

"Of course it matters! _You_ matter! You know Zach's going to hurt you. Why put yourself through this? For the mission? There are other ways to find the sorcerer. You need to save your strength for the real fight!"

Chloe says, softly, "That's the thing. I've never really fought for anything real before. Just money and...my own bullshit. But this...this _is_ a real fight. The nobles have been exploiting their advantages for decades."

Chloe opens her eyes. Kate thought that Chloe was composing herself, but she wasn't. No, she was stoking the fires of her fury to a white heat. Her voice is the ringing hammer on the anvil, shaping steel that cuts. "So I'm not going to beat Zach. I'm going to break the whole fucking Circle."

Kate stares at her. For just a moment, she gets a glimpse of what burns inside Chloe.

Chloe sighs. She slumps and the fire is hidden again. "Come on. Coach is waiting."

Kate smiles. "That's alright. Victoria's the one paying."

She's rewarded with a laugh. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, Kate."

"Lots of things. Something new every day."

Chloe starts to push herself off the bed. Kate puts her hand on Chloe's shoulder and pushes her down again. Chloe raises her eyebrows.

Kate stands up. She says, "Stay. You're going to take a nap. I'm going to find some tea. We have at least two hours before you need to be at the High Circle. I can't talk you out of this fight, but I can make sure you've got the best chance possible going into it."

Chloe smiles. It's the same shy, sweet smile Kate saw after Chloe saved her from Logan. "You're kinda bossy when you haven't had tea."

"Be thankful I had some at breakfast. Things could be so much worse for you."

"Yeah. I guess they really could."

Kate's not sure what to make of the way Chloe looks at her when she says that. She makes a show of helping Chloe into bed and tucking her in, to Chloe's amusement.

Kate waits until Chloe's asleep before she goes to talk to the coach driver and hunt down some tea leaves.

* * *

They get to the High Circle only minutes before Chloe's scheduled to fight.

Kate doesn't care. Sleep, tea, and some practice with the sword seems to have greatly restored Chloe.

Kate's sure it's mostly down to the tea.

Chloe becomes more purposeful the closer they get to the age-blackened stone edifice that houses Arcadia's High Circle. Even though her worries haven't exactly left her, Kate feels quite calm by Chloe's side.

That feeling lasts until they get inside the building and see what's waiting for them.

* * *

The third thing Kate notices is the Circle itself. It's not impressive, particularly. Just a twenty-foot diameter circle of stone, its circumference delineated by an iron band. The stone is scuffed, worn, no longer entirely level. There isn't a speck of rust on the iron.

The fourth thing Kate realises is that the room is quite large. There's tiered seating around two sides of the chamber affording an excellent view of the Circle. On the third side is a high dais where the Magistrate or the Duke can preside.

There's room for both, if needed. Which it is today, apparently, because the second thing Kate notices are all the people crammed into the room. On the dais are the Duke, the Duchess, Nathan, and several guests. That's not including the Magistrate, and a tall, handsome man whose robes identify him as the High Priest.

On the other seats, it seems that almost every noble and young warrior in the city is here. When Chloe walks into the room, all heads turn towards her. There's a moment of silence before a trickle of whispers becomes a flood of excited conversation.

Kate feels her knees shake as her calm mood evaporates like a shallow puddle when the summer sun emerges from behind a cloud.

The largest single contribution to Kate's anxiety is also the first thing she sees.

Victoria Chase is wearing a leather breastplate, a war sword at her belt, and her anger in every line of her body.

"Where the _fuck_ have you been, Kate? In Aram's name, I swear I'll-"

Quite what oath she was going to make Kate never learns. Chloe steps forward and says, in a loud, carrying voice, "My apologies for the inconvenience, Lady Chase. I stand ready to do battle in accordance with the rules of this chamber and to your greater honour."

Kate's jaw drops. Victoria looks at Chloe, back to Kate and ask, almost plaintively, "What?"

Magistrate Wells' deep voice rolls out, silencing the room. "The challenged has arrived at the appointed hour. Are we ready to begin?"

On the other side of the Circle, Zach steps forward, Hayden at his shoulder. Zach's huge in his leather armour. His war sword is ready in his hand. He smiles grimly at Chloe.

Chloe spares him a single glance. She gives more attention to the audience than to her opponent.

Kate's heart is pounding.

Victoria holds up a hand. "We have one minute more, Magistrate. I must speak with my vassal."

"Very well."

"Chloe Price." Victoria lowers her voice. "Are you fucking insane? I can see your hands are shaking. You're obviously in no condition to fight. And have you seen who the Duke's guests are?"

Chloe nods. "A Mermedonian prince and a Northern clan chieftain."

Kate looks at the dais again. Sure enough, there they are. The chieftain is an older man. The lines on his face suggest he frowns often but has never developed the knack for smiling.

This must be Snorri. But even though he knows Max and Chloe saved one of his men the other day, Kate doubts they can claim him as an ally.

The Mermedonian is young, dark haired, and smiling broadly. There's no humour in the expression. Given Chloe's actions at the amphitheatre, it's safe to assume that the Mermedonian is an enemy.

Victoria is still speaking, "Duke Prescott's gathered a lot of people who want to see you humiliated. Zach's ready to cut you to pieces, and there's no way you'll stop him if you aren't fully healed. Are you fully healed?" 

Chloe grins. "Gods, no! I'm a complete mess."

Victoria grits her teeth. "Then why are we even talking about this? I release you from-"

"Victoria." Chloe's voice is low and...calm. "That won't be necessary. I can do this. I...have a plan."

"That makes me feel _so_ much better," Victoria mutters sourly.

Kate takes a deep breath. She says, as much for her benefit as the others', "We must have faith. In the Gods, and in Chloe."

Chloe looks back at Kate, startled.

Victoria groans. "Alright! Just...tell me it's a good plan?"

Chloe grins."If it works, it'll be a _great_ plan!" 

Victoria shakes her head. She shifts her glare to Kate, who shrugs helplessly. "I thought you were going to be coming incognito? Part of the crowd?"

Kate bites her lip and looks at Chloe. "Chloe needed me."

Victoria rolls her eyes. "Gods! Chloe? A word?"

Victoria leans in and whispers into Chloe's ear. Kate doesn't catch any of it, but Chloe's back stiffens and Kate can sense, faintly, the tug of compulsion between them that indicates Victoria's giving Chloe an order.

Chloe responds, curtly, "Fine. Now can I go get cut to pieces already?"

Victoria's expression is one of pure disgust. "Don't fuck this up."

Kate frowns. "Vi...Lady Chase. Please...Chloe doesn't need any more pressure."

Victoria snorts. "You're both fucking hopeless." She turns to the dais. "Magistrate, we're ready."

* * *

Chloe steps to the edge of the Circle. Zach takes his place opposite her.

Magistrate Wells intones, "Zachary Riggins has brought this matter to the High Circle. He accuses Chloe...Madsen of maliciously inflicting a debilitating injury on Logan Robertson, an honourable warrior and bodyguard of Nathan Prescott."

Kate bristles at the description. Chloe appears unmoved. She waits, patiently, for Wells to continue.

Wells looks distinctly uncomfortable. He glances at Duke Prescott. "The matter before us is to decide whether Ms Madsen is...culpable and liable to censure for the injuries inflicted."

 _That_ starts the audience muttering again. Victoria hisses through clenched teeth.

Kate whispers, "I don't understand..."

Victoria doesn't look at her; she's too busy glaring at the dais. But she answers Kate in a fierce whisper. "This is supposed to be a duel over a personal dispute. They're turning it into a trial by fucking combat."

"Can they do that?"

"They _are_ doing it. Shit! I shouldn't have let her fight."

"What happens if...?"

"If Chloe loses? She'll be found guilty of assaulting a member of Nathan's bodyguard." Victoria smiles bitterly. "That will mean prison, for a year or two. After they take her sword hand, of course."

" _What_? Aram preserve her! Victoria you have to do something!"

"Shut up and let me think, Kate."

Magistrate Wells raises his hands and waits for silence to slink back into the chamber. "This duel shall be fought to third blood. All the rules of honourable combat will apply."

Kate chews her lip and looks around the room, looking for a friendly face, looking for an escape. She sees only hungry eyes and curious faces. She sees Zach, grim, huge, and ready.

Wells sits. High Priest Jefferson stands. He begins a prayer to Kronus.

Kate risks Kronus' wrath and whispers to Victoria, "Third blood?"

"The winner will be the first to land three cuts that draw blood."

Kate stops wringing her hands long enough to wipe her slick palms on her skirt.

Chloe doesn't have armour.

"Well...if it's just three cuts, maybe it'll be over quickly?"

Victoria coughs up a bitter laugh. "It won't. I was wrong earlier. He won't cut her to pieces. He'll _beat_ her. He'll beat her until she can't stand before he even tries to land his first cut."

Chloe was right, Kate realises. The odds were always going to be against her.

Victoria nudges Kate with her elbow. She hisses, "You've got a job to do. Stop gawping at Chloe and start looking for the sorcerer."

Kate's ready to snap at Victoria, in spite of their surroundings, but one look at Victoria stills her tongue.

Lady Chase is annoyed. This duel is a minor inconvenience for her.

But _Victoria_ is worried. About Chloe and about Kate. She's trying to get Kate to shift her focus away from the imminent violence.

And even if that only increases Kate's fears, Victoria is right. She needs to look for any telltale traces of Avaradun's spirit on anyone in the audience. It might be a slim chance, but there's still a chance that the sorcerer could be here.

As Jefferson's prayer comes to an end, he steps to the edge of the circle. Zach steps inside the band of iron. Chloe draws her sword and mimics him.

Zach raises his sword in a one-handed salute. Chloe's arm trembles slightly when she returns the gesture. Kate hopes Zach doesn't see it.

She hopes in vain. Zach sees Chloe struggling. He slowly smiles.

Jefferson says, "Points down."

Zach touches the tip of his blade to the iron band. After a moment's hesitation, Chloe copies him.

Jefferson kneels down and touches the Circle. He calls on Aram, and the Circle closes.

To Kate, it's suddenly as if she's looking at Chloe through a warped window pane.

For Zach, and Chloe, the Circle will act like a binding oath between the blessed bloodlines. If either of them try to leave the Circle before the conditions of the duel have been met, they'll suffer unendurable pain.

There's no way out for Chloe, except to win.

Kate hears Chloe mutter, "Oh, fuck..."

Kate watches Chloe adopt a defensive stance. She moves warily towards the centre. Zach raises his blade and moves to meet her.

Victoria growls, "Kate! Do what you came here to do!"

It takes an effort to look away, but she does. Kate turns her attention to the crowd. She tries to block out her other senses, drifting into a semi-meditative state to better enhance her spiritual sight.

She achieves a state of focus that lasts almost half a minute, right up until the first clash of steel yanks her focus back to the circle.

* * *

It's immediately obvious, even to Kate, that Chloe is not going to win.

Zach is on the offensive, making his heavy blade look needle-swift as he switches between thrusts and slashes, high and low.

Chloe dodges a thrust, deflects a slash aimed at her belly, then brings her sword up to stop an overhead blow from Zach. Kate sees Chloe's eyes widen. Her arms tremble as she tries to get her blade up.

She blocks, barely, but the force of Zach's strike staggers her. Chloe retreats, arms down, sword low, chest heaving.

Zach grins. He adopts a high guard and follows her. He swings from a high position, only occasionally attacking anything below Chloe's shoulders. Chloe dodges as much as she can, parries where she must.

Zach doesn't so much as scratch her. But Zach's grinning, moving easily, barely sweating.

Chloe's gasping for air. Her arms are shaking. Her back is close to the edge of the Circle.

Zach feints high, lets Chloe commit to a block, and changes to a slash aimed at her stomach. With a desperate cry, Chloe brings her sword down and blocks, but she's off balance, and there's seemingly no strength left in her arms. It takes everything she has to stop the edge of Zach's sword inches from her skin.

Zach twists his weapon, uses his height and weight advantage to force Chloe's sword down. He drives forward, slamming his shoulder into Chloe's body, driving her back.

Driving her into the edge of the Circle.

Chloe cries out, her body stiffening. She lurches away from the edge, almost dropping her sword. Zach lets her stagger past him, toward the center.

He lets her turn, and gasp in two lungfuls of air. He lets her try for a few seconds to raise the point of her sword up off the floor.

Long before she can manage it, he steps in and, reversing his blade in a fluid movement, he slams his pommel into Chloe's chest.

Chloe collapses, her sword tumbling from her fingers. She lands awkwardly on the stone floor where she can only wheeze desperately.

Zach smirks. He says, "Take your time, Chloe. I'm in no rush. Logan owes you a lot of pain."

Victoria whispers, "Oh, fuck. He's going to destroy her."

It's too much for Kate to bear. She wants to scream. She wants to throw herself at the Circle. Perhaps she even tries to do just that, but Victoria seizes her wrist before she can take half a step.

Chloe coughs. It turns into a weak chuckle. Chloe slowly gathers herself and struggles into a crouch. She spits pink spittle onto the floor.

"First blood to you, Zach. This'll be over in no time."

Zach's jaw tightens. His eyes flick to the dais.

Magistrate Wells opens his mouth, but it's Nathan Prescott who speaks. "Bullshit! She's not cut. It doesn't count!"

Wells seems to shrink. "No wound," he says, listlessly.

Kate stares at Nathan, fury welling up inside her. She doesn't care, in that moment, that he's Duke Prescott's son, or Victoria's husband to be, or that his skin is stained with Avaradun's alien hues. She only cares that he's trying to draw out Chloe's pain.

For a moment, Kate can only glare at him and send out a wordless prayer to Aram that Nathan suffer worse than he wants Chloe to endure.

Then the realisation of what she's seeing crashes down on her and she feels her jaw drop.

Nathan Prescott is the one. Nathan sent Avaradun to kill Chloe and take Victoria.

Nathan is the sorcerer.

Nathan's head snaps round. He meets Kate's eyes and she sees his shock. And something else: recognition.

Kate's mind freezes. She remembers Victoria telling her about Nathan's strange behaviour, the night before Avaradun attacked. The way he stared at Victoria...

That's why he knew that Chloe was oathbound to Victoria, why he was able to send Avaradun after them with such precise instructions, how he's been able to spot the Justicars sent to find him.

Nathan's not just a sorcerer: he's a sensitive, like Kate.

Kate looks into Nathan's eyes and sees fear turn swiftly to rage, only to be replaced by something colder, crueller, calmer.

Victoria is oblivious. Her attention is fixed on Chloe.

Kate leans towards Victoria, but her eyes don't leave Nathan's face. He jerks his head towards the Circle. Makes a tiny gesture, flicking his thumb across his throat.

Kate glances at Chloe, who is climbing wearily to her feet.

Kate gasps. She looks at Nathan, who jerks his chin at Victoria and shakes his head.

Kate grits her teeth. Even if she tells Victoria, right now, what can they hope to do? It's the word of a flighty maid against the Duke's son. Kate can't prove anything. Most of the people here likely don't know what caused all the chaos in the docks yesterday. Sorcerous storms and demons from the Void?

Not enough people here are going to believe Kate to make a difference.

And much of Victoria's power here is due to her marriage being able to cement an alliance between Arcadia and Skald. If Victoria throws accusations at Nathan, threatening the marriage, she'll stop being an honoured guest and quickly become a hostage.

Kate can't tell Victoria. Not with Nathan watching her. Chloe's locked in the Circle, and it seems like it's Nathan who will decide how long for, and how much punishment she'll be taking.

There's no help to be had here. They haven't caught the sorcerer. They've put themselves at Nathan's mercy.

There's only one thing Kate can do. Keep her mouth shut and hope that an idea will come to her before the end of the duel.

She bows her head to Nathan and takes a small step away from Victoria.

Nathan smirks at her, and shrugs. He makes an odd gesture and nods at Kate.

It puzzles here, until she hears a boot scrape and realises that two of Nathan's bodyguards have moved into position behind Kate and Victoria.

Kate looks back at the dais.

Nathan grins at her. He mouths, "Later."

Kate shivers. She looks away.

Kate's distracted by the scrape of steel. Chloe is on her feet. She picks up her sword and raises it into a guard position.

Nathan yells, "Looks like she's ready for more, Zach!"

Zach grins. He salutes Nathan before raising his sword high and stalking towards Chloe.

Kate can only hope that Chloe's plan is a good one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I did think I'd get through the whole duel, but the chapter got really long as is, so that will have to wait for next time. I do hope you don't mind all the cliffs I've left hanging around in this part.
> 
> If you've any desire to critique or speculate or just gnash your teeth, please do leave a comment. I love reading 'em.
> 
> I'll try to have the next part up on the 13th. Until then, take care, friends!


	21. Chosen

Chloe's plan is completely fucked.

Chloe acknowledges this as she pulls herself upright, her body still twitching from hitting the barrier at the edge of the Circle.

Before the Circle closed, she was thinking that her anger would ignite Hella's essence, that her rage would give her strength and speed enough to handle Zach. She was thinking she'd get him angry, force him to make mistakes, force him to break the rules. She was thinking she would use that to show the assembled hypocrites of Arcadia's nobility how much their honour was worth when it got in the way of _winning_.

She was thinking she'd make a big, dramatic victory speech and proclaim herself Hella's Chosen over Zach's whimpering body.

That was before the Circle was sealed. Chloe can _feel_ the energy around the Circle. It didn't hurt when Zach pushed her into it, but it jolted her whole body and pushed her back into the ring on someone else's legs.

It was also before the stupid salute bullshit gave away how weak Chloe's arms still are. Zach's been taking advantage of that from the start of the fight.

Zach's not even sweating yet. He's relaxed, grinning, enjoying himself. Chloe figures she's got very little chance of surviving this if she can't get under his skin. And right now, that doesn't seem likely.

Particularly when _Chloe_ is the distracted one. 

Her tongue hurts. She bit it when Zach knocked her over, and it's bleeding a little.

Her chest is numb, and her arms feel shaky. At least her hip feels okay, even though she landed on it when she fell. 

But her tongue _stings_.

The other thing is that Victoria's latest order is rattling around her mind. It's probably going to be the one that kills her, but in spite of Chloe's frustration, she can't really be angry about it.

Chloe becomes aware of a sound other than her own laboured breathing. The audience is getting restless. They're more polite than the arena crowd, but their disapproval at how long she's taking is obvious.

Zach grins at her.

Chloe tastes iron in her mouth as she lifts her steel off the floor.

Zach waits until she's upright and holding her sword before he moves.

She keeps her sword low, in a two-handed grip. Zach's smirking as he stalks towards her, his own weapon high.

Chloe dodges a strike aimed at her head. Zach aims his backswing at her chest. Chloe brings her sword up and shifts her stance to deflect his attack rather than block it. She backs away before he can bring his weight to bear, takes a step to the left to force him to turn.

Zach grins and backs up. He composes himself, raises his sword and advances on her again.

Methodical. Smart. He knows that she's fighting hurt. He knows he can outlast her, he knows he just has to grind her down. What's more, it's obvious that at least one Prescott is pulling his strings, and that she's going to take a serious beating before she loses.

Chloe sways back and narrowly avoids another slash aimed at her head. Not quite a feint, but Zach isn't likely to cut her just yet, so not quite a real attack either.

She steps into the arc of his backswing and blocks before he can get much force into it. Zach immediately lunges forward, shoulder barging her. Chloe's too slow to avoid it entirely, and she loses a couple of steps retreating so she can raise her heavy blade defensively.

She loses another two when Zach takes another swing at her, attacking her shoulders. Chloe doesn't trust her arms enough to block, so she skips back. 

She tries to counter-attack, swinging at Zach's legs, but he swats her blade aside, one handed, and with his free hand he smacks her across the jaw, a quick stinging swipe.

It jars her teeth, and she bites her tongue again. But even though she's reeling, Chloe's able to stagger around Zach's right side, away from the edge of the Circle.

Which seems like a good plan, until Zach pivots and slams the pommel of his sword into Chloe's forehead.

She falls over again, and just lies there, panting, as Zach laughs and the crowd cheer and clap from the impossible distance of twenty feet away.

Chloe takes a second to think about how much her tongue hurts. Then she goes through the complicated process of standing up again. She's stooping to pick up her blade when she hears Nathan Prescott yell something and Kate starts to shout, then Zach's filling her peripheral vision.

She just about has time to raise her head before he hits her across it with the flat of his sword and she winds up in a heap on the floor again.

Zach hisses, "I'm going to _break_ you, little girl."

As if from far away, Chloe hears Wells rebuke Zach. "This is a duel, not a brawl! You'll give her time to take up her weapon, or be penalised!"

She hears Nathan arguing with him.

Chloe wonders if she'll ever recover from Avaradun's assault. She imagines that Hella's essence is so busy holding her body together, there's simply nothing left to add to her speed, her strength. And her own reserves are clearly low, because she's _never_ been this slow, this clumsy.

Still...it's her tongue that's really bothering her. It seems weird, given all the blows she's taken, that her tongue is the only thing that's really registering pain. Chloe dazedly wonders if it's Hella's essence, masking the serious trauma and leaving her to worry about the trivial things. She imagines that after this is over, if she survives, her whole body is going to ache.

Chloe almost wishes she could ask Hella about that. But Hella isn't here. Hella can't help her.

Victoria might be able to help her. Victoria might be able to come up with a plan that actually _works_. But Victoria's on the other side of an impassible barrier. Chloe's trapped in this Circle until she or Zach draws blood three times.

And given the way Nathan fucking Prescott, Victoria's bride to be, is leaning on Wells, it's unlikely that they're going to count anything as valid until she's been beaten to a pulp.

Chloe thinks she can hear Kate praying.

Chloe wishes Kate wasn't here to see this. Weirdly, she wishes Max was.

Max, her timid and truest friend who used to hide behind Chloe when other people got too close. Max who stood in front of Chloe and kicked the ass of a demon by forcing it to...

Chloe blinks. It's a long way from a plan, but there's a glimmer of _something_ in that thought.

Zach kicks her feet. "Come on, I barely touched you! Get UP!"

Chloe takes a few seconds to figure out where all her limbs are before she gets up. 

She thinks about Kate praying. She thinks about the Lawspeaker taking down the demon that almost ended her. She thinks about her oath to Victoria, and the power that binds her in the Circle.

Chloe remembers Rachel calling her escape plan pathetic.

That's the problem right there, she decides. Rachel was right. Chloe's never been one for planning.

Zach retreats a couple of paces and yells something at her.

Chloe looks around and sees a whole bunch of nobles waiting for her to pick up her sword. Waiting for her to play by their rules. Waiting for Chloe to get the shit kicked out of her.

She stoops for her sword again.

Kate screams, but it's unnecessary. Of _course_ Zach's going to run at her and try to hit her again when she's unprepared. To humiliate her, to show her who's in charge, to break her down even more.

So of _course_ Chloe quickly straightens up and spits the blood that's been pooling in her mouth into his face.

Zach flinches and screws his eyes shut. His forward momentum turns into a sideways stumble as he tries to change direction, away from Chloe.

Chloe's plan is completely fucked. But that's okay. She's always been better at improvising.

Zach lowers his sword and quickly swipes at his eyes. He opens them just in time to see Chloe's foot connecting with his groin.

It's not her best effort, but it's possibly the most satisfaction she's ever felt from kicking a man in the balls. 

Zach drops his sword and groans and pulls a face that, Chloe's quite certain, won't be soon forgotten by the rich and powerful of Arcadia no matter what else happens here.

Wells is bellowing about bad conduct and penalties, so Chloe steps back. 

Then she lunges in and rakes her nails down Zach's cheek. Chloe's nails aren't very long, but they're long enough to draw blood.

"First blood!" she rasps as she backs away to where she left her sword.

Nathan's on his feet, screaming and spraying his spit across the Northern clan chieftain. "You fucking savage! That's against the rules!"

A lot of others are on their feet, nobles and warriors, howling their disapproval.

Chloe laughs at them. "Rules?" she yells. "The only rule inside this Circle is be the first to draw blood three times. Who's coming in here to tell me different?"

Nathan gapes at her, lost for words.

The room isn't exactly quiet. There are people talking everywhere, but the shouting has stopped just for a moment.

Chloe spares Zach a quick glance. He's clutching his cheek and fumbling for his sword, glaring at her.

Chloe turns her back on him and walks to the edge of the Circle. "I say we've scored one each. Not sure I trust the judgement of the people on the dais. Let's leave this one to the Gods, shall we?"

Chloe thrusts her hand out over the iron band in the floor. Her hand meets gentle resistance, and slows to a stop. It tingles a little, but that's all.

 _Now_ it gets quiet.

So Chloe whirls round and faces Zach. Zach and just behind him, on the other side of the barrier, Hayden. And behind Hayden, the gathered elite of Arcadia.

Chloe says, "The Gods seem okay with that idea."

Someone says, "You _dare_ presume to interpret the will of the Gods?"

Chloe turns to the dais. To her surprise, it's not the High Priest who spoke. If anything, Jefferson looks amused.

No, it's Duke Prescott himself who's glaring at her and shaking with fury.

In the corner of her eye, Chloe sees Zach lift his sword and tense, ready to spring.

Chloe grins. "Well, Duke Prescott, I'm pretty sure I've spoken to more of Them than you have." Chloe pulls off her bandanna, and tosses it to Zach. "That's for your face."

Chloe meets Duke Prescott's eyes. She points at her hair, blue, and green, and purple, like the sea. " _This_ says I'm Hella's Chosen." Chloe turns so everyone can get a good look. She takes a deep breath and shouts as loud as she can, "And people, Hella is _pissed_."

Duke Prescott yells, "Jefferson! Unseal the Circle! This... _blasphemer_ must be punished!"

Jefferson stands up, his expression troubled. Wells tries to protest, but Nathan starts shrieking in his face.

All around the room, people are shouting, arguing, praying...but mostly, they're calling for Chloe's head.

Fury boils over inside her.

Chloe's finds the air to shout, "Hella sent me here for a _purpose_! You want me to fight this bullshit duel? Fine! But you want to change the rules of this fight _again_ in the middle of it? You want to say that this is the Gods' will? You let people like the _honourable_ warrior Logan use the _Gods'_ Circle to commit murder and you don't fucking blink! And you call me blasphemer?"

Hayden shouts at Zach, who rushes her, sword raised.

Chloe remembers what she told Kate she was coming here to do. She reaches out to the edge of the Circle again, and she reaches deep inside herself.

Chloe roars, "I say this Circle is a lie! I say there is no honour, no justice here! I say the nobles of Arcadia have corrupted this Circle. In Hella's name, I say it is _broken_."

Hella's essence rises inside her, a wave that grows and grows, and crashes against the power that contains them in the Circle. The barrier that once felt so impenetrable breaks like rotten wood hit by a tsunami. The ground shakes. The iron band in the floor shatters in a dozen places. Cracks split the stone where the duellists stand.

Zach never gets within striking distance of Chloe. He stumbles over the shaking ground and cries out. He throws a hand over his eyes as chips of stone and iron slice through the air around him.

Chloe doesn't flinch. Not a single thing touches her. Hella's essence rushes through her body. The essence that the iron band held pulses in the air around her, then dissipates. Abruptly, the ground becomes still and the last fragments of metal drop limp to the floor.

For a moment, there's shocked silence. Then it seems that every voice is raised at once in a panicked hubbub.

Chloe is the only one who says nothing.

She lets everyone else shout and curse and question. She ignores everything outside the broken Circle. She strides to her sword, her eyes locked on Zach.

He's wide-eyed, shaking, and bleeding from a cut to his scalp from some piece of the Circle's debris. "What...? How did you do that? What's _happening_?"

Chloe scoops up her sword and points it at Zach's bleeding head. "That's second blood. What's happening is: you're going down."

And she can see it in his eyes. He believes her. He believes all of it.

He attacks her anyway. He raises his sword and lurches towards her.

Chloe screams, "HELLA!" and counter-charges him.

Her voice, uttering that name, drowns out every other voice in the hall.

Everyone turns to look. Everyone in that place sees Chloe swat Zach's thrust aside and rush into him and break his nose with a headbutt. Everyone sees her push him to the floor, his nose gouting blood, and step over him.

Chloe wipes his blood off her forehead and raises her hand so that they can see it. She glares around her.

She snarls, "Anyone want to fucking argue that's not three?"

No one does.

* * *

For Chloe, it gets fairly simple after that.

Exhaustion crashes down on her. It makes the sword slip from her fingers. It makes her head droop. It makes her vision blur and narrow until all she can see are the cracks she somehow put in the floor.

As voices are raised all around her, Kate rushes to her side and slips an arm around her. Chloe leans into her gratefully. Until pressure starts gently squeezing her mind and jolts Chloe out of her daze.

Victoria's fucking order...

Chloe straightens up, taking her weight off Kate. She sucks in a breath. "Kate...we really need to-"

Kate chases her and hugs her tightly. She gasps, "Chloe, that was incredible! You were incredible! You...really broke the Circle, you summoned Hella's essence and, oh I was so scared, but...Chloe!"

Victoria snaps, "Kate! Shut up! Chloe, Jefferson and...oh, fucking _everybody_ is coming over, right now! So just try to-"

Kate disentangles herself from Chloe and babbles, "No! Wait! I have to tell you...I'm so sorry, but...I can see Avaradun's influence all over Nathan! He's the sorcerer!"

Everything gets complicated for everyone after that.

Hayden pushes past Chloe, rushing to Zach's side.

Duke Prescott is suddenly right there, snarling, "I don't know what kind of sorcery this is, but you won't get away with this!"

Nathan appears, pointing at Kate and signalling frantically. "It was her, I saw her whispering spells just before the Circle broke!"

A guard yanks Kate's arm and pulls her away from Chloe.

Before Chloe can react, Victoria's sword clears it's sheathe and she presses the point of it into the guard's throat. In tones so icy even Chloe shivers, Victoria says, "Let her go. _Now_."

Magistrate Wells bustles over and gasps, "Please! This is no time for people to-"

Nathan says, "Quiet, dog!"

Chloe cracks her neck and rolls her shoulders.

A hand lands on her right shoulder. High Priest Jefferson says, "You are in the presence of the first new Chosen in over a century. You are all behaving like _children_."

He doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't have to, it seems. Everyone gets quiet.

Jefferson nods. He removes his hand from Chloe's shoulder and offers her a slightly apologetic smile. "Magistrate. I think this duel is settled, and in the Chosen's favour?"

Wells sags with relief. "Y-yes, I think that's the clear legal outcome."

Jefferson smiles. "The Gods certainly agree. And, if _I_ may presume to speak for the Gods' interests, Duke Prescott?"

He twitches his lip. Nothing more.

Jefferson bows. "This woman is Hella's Chosen. This Circle was broken by the Gods' will, not sorcery. I feel certain you and the Magistrate will wish to discuss the injustices that could have led to such a thing coming to pass."

Wells tenses up again.

Jefferson continues, "Most important of all, Chloe says she has spoken with Hella. This is...astonishing news. Good people, this could be the herald of a new age! We must confer on this matter. But...perhaps in a more private location, and when people have had a little time to cool off?"

The Prescotts share a glance. Victoria, who hasn't lowered her sword, says, "That sounds like an excellent plan, your grace. Perhaps we could meet in your solar, later this evening?"

Nathan blurts, "What? You're taking _her_ side? Over _me_?" He points an accusing finger at Chloe. Chloe's just tired enough not to reach out and break it.

Victoria sighs. She pushes her sword forward, breaking the skin of the guard's neck.

Nathan gestures at the guard who quickly lets Kate go and backs away from Victoria.

She turns and coolly sheathes her sword. "I'm doing what's best for Elysium, Nathan. That's always going to be my highest priority."

Chloe finds herself saying, "Enough. I'm leaving, with Lady Chase and Kate. We'll be at High Priest Jefferson's...solar tomorrow morning. Anyone who's interested in Hella's words can join us there."

They all stare at her. Jefferson smiles. "Of course, Chosen. I look forward to discussing matters with you tomorrow. If you have need of anything before then, I am entirely at your service."

Jefferson bows to her.

Arcadia's High Priest. Bowing to Chloe Price?

She just nods, like she's been having High Priests bow to her all her life, and hopes it's the right way to respond.

Duke Prescott steps in front of her. "Fuck with me again and I'll have you flayed alive, _Chosen_."

Chloe says, softly, "I'll try to stay out of your way, your grace. Make sure you don't piss Hella off and it shouldn't be a problem."

The prospect of very imminent violence is observable in the way that the muscles of the people around her tighten, the way that the more experienced people quietly reach for weapons.

Chloe takes idle note of who reacts what way while meeting the Duke's angry stare.

He says, "You'd speak that way to your Duke? You must have a death wish."

Chloe grins. "Don't take it personally. I speak that way to my God, too. And...She and I still came to a useful working relationship."

Nathan starts to say something, but Duke Prescott absently cuffs him across the mouth. He smiles at Chloe. "I'll see you very soon, Chosen. Nathan, we're leaving. Magistrate? Walk with me. We'll give you a ride back to Blackwell."

Jefferson stays with them until the Prescotts and their guards are gone. Once they have, he says, "Perhaps I should escort you to your carriage, Lady Chase?"

Chloe's surprised when Victoria sighs, her shoulders drooping. "Thank you, your-"

He waves a hand. "Just call me Mark. There are too many titles being thrown around."

The four of them leave the building together. There's a large crowd of nobles and warriors still milling around. Everyone gives them a wide berth.

Chloe's surprised to see that the sun is already lowering. Evening is fast approaching.

Victoria walks up front, talking quietly with High Priest...Mark.

Chloe and Kate follow them.

Chloe asks, quietly, "You okay?"

Kate reaches towards her neck, pauses, then lowers her hand with a sigh. "No. Um...you didn't really talk to Hella so...rudely? Did you?"

Chloe purses her lips. "I...may have said worse to Her?"

Kate groans. "It's been over a century since Gods and humans have spoken, Chloe!"

"She didn't seem to mind. She kinda liked it, actually. Uh, not that...anyway, that's not the only thing on your mind, is it?"

Kate looks up at Chloe and rolls her eyes. "No! But...promise me you'll be polite if you meet Aram, at least!"

Chloe laughs, which she thinks counts as something of a miracle. "I'll be on my best behaviour. Promise."

Kate smiles a tiny smile that all too soon fades from her lips. "I'm worried about Victoria. And...our problem." She glances at Jefferson. "And you. Are _you_ okay?"

Chloe runs a hand through her hair. Without her coat, her bandanna, she feels...exposed. And her body isn't sore yet, but she is pretty drained. But all she says to Kate's worried face is, "Heh. No. My tongue hurts."

Kate stares at her. "Oh...I see." She shakes her head. "I really don't, actually. Is that the only thing that's bothering you?"

Chloe snorts. "Gods, no." She nods at Mark's back. "But it's the only thing I can..."

Chloe trails off and her eyes slowly widen.

Kate touches her wrist. "Chloe? Chloe, what's wrong?"

Chloe grits her teeth and shakes her head. "Wait."

Kate does, until they're at Victoria's carriage and Mark is taking his leave of them all with another bow for Chloe.

When he's gone, Chloe yanks open her shirt and peels some of the bandages away from her chest.

Kate flushes and turns away.

Victoria glares at Chloe. "What the _fuck_...? Just...what the fuck to _everything_ that's happened today, up to and including _this_ you crazy, reckless, stupid-" 

Chloe hastily closes her shirt and blurts, "I need to find Max."

Chloe winces when Victoria's expression somehow darkens further. "Of all the...why the fuck, with _everything_ else going on, would I let you go running off-"

"Because my tongue hurts!"

Victoria and Kate exchange baffled looks. Victoria says, "Ooookay. You _did_ take a few blows to the head back there..."

"Right! And am I bruised? Bleeding? Anything?"

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Victoria ventures, "Well, no..."

Then the blood drains from Kate's face. "Oh. Oh, no...we need to get Max! Right now!"

Chloe says, "That's what I'm saying! Wait, why are you saying that?"

Kate bites her lip. "I didn't have a chance to tell you, but Nathan is a sensitive, too. If he's going to Blackwell..."

Victoria grinds her teeth. "Max is at Blackwell, isn't she? And you spotted Kronus' essence the moment you saw her. Fuck!"

Chloe reaches for her sword and realises that she left it on the floor of the High Circle. "Shit! We have to get moving, Vic!"

Victoria rubs her brow. "This fucking day..." She throws up her hands. "Alright! Let's grab what we can on the way. We're breaking into Blackwell. To make sure my intended doesn't..."

Abruptly, Victoria breaks off and turns away. She climbs quickly into the carriage.

Chloe grimaces. She looks at Kate, who quickly looks away and scurries into the carriage.

Chloe remembers Victoria's last order: "Don't break Kate's heart."

Chloe groans and mutters, "This fucking _week_."

She climbs into the carriage and slams the door.

Seconds later, they leave the broken Circle behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I realised I wasn't going to be able to update on the 13th, thus...a slightly early chapter! I had quite a lot of fun writing this one. I hope you had fun reading it.
> 
> Thanks as ever for tuning in. I think it might be a couple of weeks before I get back to this. There's a whole host of other fics waiting impatiently for me to write them. A legion. A horde! Well, a few...
> 
> And the next chapter is something I've been thinking about from the beginning, but the path taken to it has changed quite a bit, so I think I need to think it out again before I jump into it.
> 
> So, yeah, it might be the end of the month before I update this. Actually, let's just say the 28th of July. If you can rely on nothing else with me, and you really can't, you can at least rely on (mostly) punctual Law updates!
> 
> Oh, and if you want to leave a comment, please do. If you're shy, I promise I won't tell anybody about it...


	22. Safe

Max isn't sure how long she waits. Long enough for fear to become anxiety, and for anxiety to become boredom. Long enough to sift through everything she knows, and everything she can guess, and make plans for later.

There doesn't seem much point in assuming that there won't be a later.

At one point, there's a change in Blackwell's pitch, a buzz of activity that Max can feel in faint vibrations through the floor, in the sounds of raised voices outside and inside. After that, it gets quiet. A tense, careful sort of quiet. Someone important has arrived. Someone more important than Wells.

Duke Prescott, then.

Max wonders what's going to happen to her.

A few minutes later, she finds out.

* * *

Max hears them coming long before the door is unlocked and opened.

It's the moustached guard who brought her here, and someone new. A young man, with blonde hair, expensive clothes, and a sneer that doesn't quite mask his terror.

Max has seen that look before, in the eyes of those pushed too far past their limits. It's one of the things she's learned, to her cost. Everyone has limits. No one can say what those limits are, until circumstances reveal them. Most people never have to find out. 

Max has met her limits.

And so has this young noble. But he's found no acceptance of them, only fear. He's afraid of everything, all at once, always. That kind of fear, though, is not paralysing. That kind of fear is a spur that drives someone to do bad things, and worse things, and even more terrible things, until the end.

Max feels sorry for him, even as her stomach starts to churn.

The nobleman strides into the room, staring unblinking at Max. Moustache follows him, looking uneasy.

The nobleman stares at her and slowly smiles. "Void fuck us all! She's...oh, she's _just_ what I've been looking for. Bundle her up. We'll take her back to the palace."

Moustache frowns. "I don't take orders from you."

"Yes, you fucking do! And you're taking this one! I want her-"

Max says, "Nathan Prescott. So, you're a sensitive. Among other things."

He flinches, but when he turns back to her she can almost smell the anger smoking off him.

"Lord Prescott." He cuffs her across the face.

Max smiles. She's been hit harder than that by bigger men than Nathan. "Lord Prescott. I've been looking for someone, too."

He narrows his eyes. He raises his hand, hesitates, and rubs his jaw. Max notices a fresh bruise at the corner of his mouth. "You think I care about what you're looking for?"

Max nods. "Yes. You do. But...you're not who I'm looking for, Nathan. You have helped me narrow it down, though."

He hits her again, which she was expecting. She sees the anger in moustache's eye, which she was only hoping for.

Nathan hisses, "You're going to die. He's going to rip what you stole right out of you, and throw what's left aside like the worthless husk it is. You're just meat. You're worth _nothing_. What comes next, you won't be a part of! You'll be _gone_."

Max takes a deep breath, and slowly releases it. "You said the same thing, twice. Unless...you didn't...huh. Thanks, Nathan. This is very helpful."

He raises his hand, but moustache steps in between them.

Moustache says, "Enough. She's spending the night here. I'll be working on her. I'll find out what she knows. We'll get her to you before dawn, if you need her so bad."

Nathan snarls, "Are you telling me what to do?"

Moustache growls, "I'm telling you the sun's not down yet. And Blackwell's staff is still here. And the Duke's carriage isn't the best way to transport her."

Nathan snorts. "None of that matters to me. You should-"

"All of it matters to your father. And he's the one I'm worried about. Not you."

Max ignores them while they stare each other down. She's too busy thinking.

She looks up when they leave, meeting Nathan's eye again. He grins at her. "See you in the morning."

Max nods. "You will see me again. You're not who I'm looking for, Nathan. But I have business with you." Even Max is surprised by the winter in her voice when she adds, "I am the reckoning you've always known was coming."

Nathan's face pales. He leaves without another word.

Moustache lingers for a shaved fraction of a second. Just long enough for her to see what she thinks is a hint of a smile. It's hard to say under the facial hair.

The door closes and is locked again.

Max thinks about what she's learned, until she shudders, and has to hug herself, and think about nothing at all.

* * *

It's only minutes later that the door is unlocked again.

Max looks up and finds herself grinning. She says, "Hey, Chloe. Thanks for coming after me."

Chloe is standing in the doorway. Moustache is standing behind her. Max ignores him. Chloe's pale, sweating, breathing hard. Her hair is exposed, and it's blue, and beautiful, and strange. So are her eyes, where panic gives way to something immeasurable as her gaze falls on Max.

Chloe's teeth flash in an achingly familiar grin. "Hey, squirt. I knew you'd get in trouble without me."

Max wonders if there's a word for the precise opposite of heartbreak.

Before she can say anything else, moustache shoves Chloe into the room, and the door is locked once more.

* * *

Max meets Chloe halfway. She steps into Chloe's waiting arms and hugs her gently.

Chloe huffs in mock exasperation. "Max, I'm not going to break."

Max hugs her properly, resting her head against Chloe's chest. Chloe drops her chin on top of Max's head and sighs.

Max breathes in, and even through all the unfamiliar odours, she can recognise Chloe. She can recognise home.

Chloe lifts her head. "Did you just smell me? Gods, you're still a weird little thing."

Max snorts and reluctantly pulls away. "I'm a very important person these days, Chloe. You shouldn't mock me."

Chloe lets her pull back, but she doesn't let go. She trails her fingers along Max's sides and catches Max's hands in passing. She squeezes them, and grins again. "Yeah, you know _that's_ never going to happen, right, squirt?"

Max laughs. "It better not! There's only so much change I can handle."

Chloe frowns. She lets go of Max's hands and touches Max's cheek. "Your face...who hit you, Max?"

It's hard to say which trembles more, Chloe's hand or her voice. It's easy to say why, though: she isn't angry at Max's bruises. Chloe's furious.

"I just met Nathan Prescott."

"Oh, shit! Max, Nathan is a sensitive!"

Max shakes her head. "He's more than that. But he definitely knows about Kronus' essence, now..."

Chloe begins pacing. "Fuck! This is bad...Max, Nathan's the fucking sorcerer!"

Max narrows her eyes. "What...makes you say that?"

"Oh, shit, right! Uh, I was fighting this duel, and after I broke the Circle, Kate told me she saw Avaradun's taint all over him. And she realised he's a sensitive. She figures that's how he got onto Vic and me. He saw Victoria's oathbond with me."

"And that would explain why he only wanted you dead and told Avaradun to capture Victoria."

"Exactly."

"And almost nothing else."

"Exactly! Wait, what?"

Max frowns and tries to think. "Nathan is a sorcerer, but he isn't the one who summoned the storm five years ago. He's part of it all, but he isn't the one pulling the strings."

Chloe folds her arms. "How can you be sure? I mean, he's kind of a thug _now_ , but maybe he was...precocious?"

"It's not his age, though that's part of it. Summoning Avaradun was big, and obvious, and left traces. The storm was subtler. The sorcerer who did _that_ knows how to cover their tracks. Oh, and he told me he was working for someone else. A man."

Chloe blinks. "He just...told you?"

"You said it. He's kind of a thug."

"Well, it has to be Sean, our beloved Duke he's working for. Right?"

"No, I don't think so. He's pretty contemptuous of his father and doesn't share his agenda." Max shakes her head, frustrated. "I think I know how Sean got involved in all this. Whatever _it_ really is...aagh! I can almost see it. I can almost...hold on. You broke the Circle?"

"Oh. Yeah. Well...we're not going anywhere for a while...I guess we've got some catching up to do, huh?"

Max swallows. The prospect of talking to Chloe about something other than the horrors of recent days is somehow unnerving. "Uh, yeah. I...I'd like that."

Chloe slumps. Her voice trembles when she says, "Well, if we're going to do this...Max...I thought the Mermedonians got you. I-I thought you were dead. I fucking _hoped_ you were dead."

Max freezes. She doesn't really want to remember that day, but...Chloe needs to know. "We got blown too far North. We didn't stray into Meremdonian waters, but...the Mermedonians did get us. Reavers, on their way back from a raid on Snorri's clan. Snorri's people followed them. They got the Mermedonians before they got...me."

Chloe bites her lip. "Max...did your parents...?"

"I...got sick right after the gale hit us. No one could figure it out. I guess it was Kronus' Essence...attaching itself to me. Who knows why It chose me..."

Max is too inwardly focused to notice more than the shift in Chloe's expression. She doesn't have the capacity to parse it in that moment.

"A-anyway, my mom was looking after me below deck. My dad...died fighting. My mom...she...tried to shield me. I woke up and there was fighting, Mermedonians and clansmen, and my mom...she...died on top of me..."

Chloe pulls her in and holds her until the tears are gone. It takes a long, long time.

* * *

There's only one chair, so they end up sitting on the floor.

That's where Max tells Chloe about the last five years. About being taken by the clansmen, and being made a slave. About the years spent in fear and misery that she hid as best she could before she was traded to Snorri.

Snorri was scary, but she'd known how to push her fear aside long enough to get through the day by then. And Helgi, his eldest son, was a fair man, and a kind one, who looked out for her. And Bersi, Snorri's youngest son, was a sweet boy who tried to treat her like a friend and made the days easier.

And then Snorri took her to Ref, and she became something else.

Max has to leave a lot of things out, of course, but the only thing that feels like a lie is when she says nothing about her conversation with Kate this morning.

It doesn't take long to tell Chloe the shape of the last five years. And Max knows that there's more she could say, but, from the weight of Chloe's silence, Max thinks she's already filling in the details.

At length Max asks, "What happened to William?"

And that's all it takes for Chloe to pour out _her_ story, and her own tears.

Chloe tells Max about surviving the storm William didn't, and being raised by a stranger, and becoming a thief, and planning to leave Arcadia. About the year she spent hating Max for leaving. Meeting Kate. Meeting _Hella_. Being ordered to save the world...fighting a duel she couldn't win, revealing herself as Hella's Chosen to Arcadia's nobility. Breaking the High Circle.

Chloe talks, and cries, and Max listens and holds Chloe and feels anger, and love, and pride burning within her.

Chloe rests her head on Max's shoulder, and leans into her. Max can feel her trembling. She can feel Chloe holding tightly onto something she needs to tell Max.

Max tentatively combs her fingers through Chloe's hair.

She's never done something like this before, but when she scrapes her fingers across Chloe's scalp the first time, Chloe sighs and relaxes against her. So Max keeps going, with more confidence, taking comfort in the comfort that she's giving.

After a while, Chloe says, softly, "I killed someone in the arena. I cut him apart. I could've killed him quick, but I made him suffer. I made him scream. He was a Mermedonian."

Max keeps running her fingers through Chloe's hair. "I'm sorry. For everything you've been through. For what it's worth, you...saved Helgi. He's a good man."

"I didn't need to do...that to save him. I chose to fucking butcher someone. I...I'm capable of that. What I did is...it's on me. It'll never go away, will it?"

Max keeps her fingers moving, slow and with gentle pressure. "No. It never will."

Chloe snorts out a tear-streaked laugh. "Did you even think about lying for my sake?"

"No. It wouldn't help you. And...you'd know, anyway."

"Max...I...used you as an excuse to let myself do it. Do all those awful things." Chloe, a child again, whispers, "Do you hate me?"

Max strokes Chloe's hair and says, "You listen now, Chloe Price. I've learned a lot of things. I know how to scribe, and how to manage a household, and how to care for animals. I even know how to weave homespun, badly. And I know how to hide my fear, and my name, and my self, far too well. Chloe, I know the name of every God there ever was, and how They came to be. I know the name of every demon, too. I know the law of every land, and the Law that holds all things together. I know how to make a jury and how to judge a case, even involving the Gods themselves. I know how to keep a secret and when to break an oath. I know all the things Engramma wanted us to know, and all the things She didn't, but She knew we would need. I know sometimes people need to be killed, and I know it's never right. I know you aren't cruel, and that you've been punished enough, and that you'll never stop punishing yourself, in spite of that. I know all those things, and more, and so much more than that."

Chloe is clinging to her.

Max takes a deep breath, and says, "I don't know how to hate you, Chloe. That's one thing I'll never figure out."

Chloe gasps. "Oh."

"Yeah." Max smiles at the far wall.

They hold each other, and Max strokes Chloe's hair.

"...Max?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you...maybe make me kinda invulnerable?"

Max closes her eyes and bangs her head against the wall. "Oh, Gods. I'm the worst Lawspeaker ever!"

* * *

It was that one moment, Kronus' power meeting Engramma's seal, and Max, the Lawspeaker, declaring that she wouldn't let anything hurt Chloe Price again.

It's Max's job to protect the Laws. Not to rewrite them. And never to _break_ them. But that's what she's done, for Chloe. That's the only explanation.

Max explains her theory, and Chloe asks, "So...nothing can hurt me? Except me? Just...because you said so?"

"More like maybe not much can hurt you...because...I used Kronus' essence and Engramma's Seal to break the world? Just a little bit! Which is...still bad."

"I'm no expert on these things, Max. But that does sound bad, yeah," Chloe says, dryly.

Max rolls her eyes. "Look, when you violate the Laws...like sorcerers do...it's always messy. It can cause...damage in unexpected ways. And Engramma's Seal is...it's not _fragile_ , but...it's not something anyone should tinker with. I think what I've done...it might have affected the Seal. The more you get hurt, or, uh... _should_ get hurt, the more that could draw from...the one thing that's keeping demons out of the world. Maybe? So...please don't test how invulnerable you actually are, okay?"

"Um. I may have a little already? In the duel, earlier?"

Max frowns. She tries to work out what sort of damage she's done, what sort of damage she's still doing with Chloe.

"We're going to need to be careful. There are consequences to this kind of thing. Always."

"It's happened before?"

Max slumps. "Not exactly. Nothing like this. Which is why I'm the _worst_. I...still don't even understand what I did, so...Gods, I can't think right now."

"Hey, come on. Give yourself a chance. You're not the worst. You made a mistake. While you were busy concentrating on, oh, yeah, kicking the ass of a fucking demon! You're...kinda amazing, Max."

Max sighs. "I fucked up. I should've been better."

Chloe tenses against her. Her voice is gentle, though. "Bullshit. You did your best. And _your_ best is fucking incredible."

Max isn't sure she deserves to feel comforted. But Chloe has always been able to manage to comfort her, somehow. Max has had to get through so much without her best friend. Maybe she's earned having Chloe beside her for these hours.

"Thanks, Chloe. I'll...work this out, don't worry."

"Yeah. Once we deal with Nathan and his boss, you can take as long as you need, right?"

Max closes her eyes. "Y-yeah. Right."

"Um, Max...?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you...uh, fuck, this is embarrassing! Could you...keep going? Just for a bit longer? My mom used to..."

Max realises that she's stopped running her fingers through Chloe's hair. She resumes her gentle work, and Chloe relaxes again.

After a few minutes, Max does, too. She lets her thoughts drift toward whatever conclusions will give them harbour.

Chloe says, "I know it's weird to say this, given how fucked everything is, but...I'm really glad you're here, Max."

Max absentmindedly kisses the top of Chloe's head. "Me, too. I basically came to Arcadia to find you, you know."

Chloe tenses slightly, but doesn't move. "So...not because Snorri made you? He _is_ fucking scary-looking, by the way. Or because you wanted to become the best forger ever?"

"Ha! Snorri didn't want me here. Ref pushed him to take me. And I just did the forgery thing to keep Kronus' essence quiet. Working on legal papers makes it happy. Eases the headaches."

Chloe gently pulls away. Max lets her go with no obvious reluctance. Chloe studies her face, and laughs, softly. "Seriously? Having God stuff is so...strange."

"Yeah. It's not much fun, either. Especially when..." Max trails off, realising she's dangerously close to something she can't tell Chloe. Not yet.

Chloe looks at her quizzically.

"Uh...people are trying to kill you for it."

Chloe frowns, but she nods. "Well, yeah. Same here. It's fucking exhausting, huh?"

Max giggles. "Yeah! But, I meant it, Chloe."

"Meant what?" She smiles.

"I needed to come here out of duty. I don't want the Northern clans to go back to war. I mean, I have a lot of responsibilities to the clans, now...but I _wanted_ to come back to find you. One big reason for wanting to break into Blackwell was to track you down."

Chloe quickly looks away, "Ha! Well, you're terrible at it. I found you first."

"Well...I saw you first, technically."

"Doesn't count. You didn't even recognise me!"

"I was distracted!" Max pretends to pout.

Chloe shakes her head, grinning. "Not good enough, Maxine! Admit that I'm the finding expert!"

"Fine, fine! I admit it. Don't-"

"Call you Maxine? Never again, promise. Even if it is fun making your nose scrunch up."

"My nose doesn't..."

Chloe raises her eyebrows.

Max sighs. She doesn't really want this moment to end, but...there are things that need to be done. "Chloe, are we nearly done waiting? When does the next part of the plan start?"

Chloe's grin fades. She stares at Max for long enough to make Max feel self-conscious. "What?"

"You're doing that thing they all talk about," Chloe says, flatly.

"Huh? No, I...what thing? I just need to get into Wells' office. That's part of your plan, right? I know you didn't really get captured, and neither did I, because I recognised moustache earlier, and from what you told me that must be David. So he's acting as your inside man, and we're waiting for everyone to leave so-"

"There! That thing! The thing where you're all," Chloe adopts a quavering voice, "I know this is what you're thinking, and what's going to happen next, because I'm, ooooh, _magical_."

Max flushes. "I-I don't sound like that! And it's not magic! It's just the obvious conclusion based on the available-"

"Oh, please! First, you sound _exactly_ like that! Second, you're clearly just trying to impress all the ladies with this stuff!"

Max sputters, "What? Chloe, I'm not trying to...l-ladies? I-I trained for years! This is...this is just how my mind works!"

Chloe grins. "Oh, I know how _your_ mind works, Max Caulfield. Tell me there's no part of you that loves the fact that you've got Lady Victoria Chase spitting at the mention of your name? And Rachel...what did you even _do_ to Rachel Amber?"

Max discovers that her days of blushing intensely and profusely are not in the past, after all. "Nothing! I just spent a few hours with her writing up travel papers. She flirts like that with everyone! Doesn't she...?"

Chloe rolls her eyes. "No, Max. I mean, yeah, she'll flirt to give herself an edge, but with you...I mean, she rolled over and gave away the Two Whales to you!"

Max finds her blush getting worse. "Technically, I bought the tavern..."

"Oh? And how much did you pay?"

"...five marks?"

Chloe snorts. "Rachel doesn't take orders from anybody, and she doesn't do _anything_ if she doesn't see a profit in it. But you come along, bat your eyelashes, and say something that _sounds_ clever and..."

"I didn't bat anything! And I'm not...Rachel isn't...she isn't someone I...I'm not trying to impress anyone!"

"Ha! I almost forgot how red you can get. See? This is why your thing can't impress me. I _know_ you, squirt."

"Chloe..." Max closes her eyes and breathes for a minute. When she opens her eyes, Chloe's grin is profoundly smug.

Max shakes her head and smiles. "Fine, I can't impress you."

"Right."

"Now will you tell me the rest of Victoria's plan?"

Chloe's smirk vanishes. "Ho...okay," she says, straining to sound casual. "The plan, sure. Yeah. The one that Victoria made." Chloe scowls at her. "That was just a lucky guess!"

Max grins.

Chloe huffs and folds her arms. "I'm still not impressed, squirt."

* * *

The plan was to get Chloe inside, keep Max out of sight until the Prescotts were gone, get into Wells' office and find Wells' journals and any other useful evidence, then get out under the cover of Victoria's promised diversion.

"So...how did you get in?" Max asks.

Chloe shrugs. "Just scaled the rear wall, jumped from there to the roof of the stables, crawled to the far corner of that roof. You know David put a bear trap up there? Glass or caltrops would've been smarter. I had to wait a few to see what the guard patrols were like, and watch where they weren't walking. Then when I saw an opening, I rushed the back door. I was almost done picking it when David opened it and hauled me up here."

"Oh. Well...that's..."

Chloe grins and throws her arm around Max's shoulder. "It's okay. You can be impressed at what I do, Max."

Max tries to fight the grin tugging at her lips. "I mean...David caught you, so..."

"I wanted him to catch me! That was part of the plan!"

"Uh huh. Victoria's plan. Of course!"

Chloe growls, "Watch it, squirt. You're talking to the best burglar in Arcadia!"

Max laughs. "Okay, sorry!" Max gently touches Chloe's stomach. "Are you? Okay, I mean?"

"Still got a long way to go. But I'm getting better, Max." Chloe meets Max's eye, and smiles.

Max nods. "Good. Now...it's just the guards left. Do you think you can pick the lock on _this_ door, or are we waiting for David?"

Chloe grins. "Still trying to impress me, huh? I've got ears, too, Max. David will have told the guards that he'll be the one taking care of us. Meanwhile, he should be keeping Wells busy _for_ us. Let's make a move."

* * *

It's dark outside. Inside, only a few lamps are burning. The scribes, clerks, messengers, cooks, and other staff are all gone. It's just the guards they need to worry about.

Max tries not to worry about the guards, since Chloe doesn't seem worried.

Chloe turns left after opening the door and picks the lock on another bare room. She reaches inside and produces two bags, one of which is Max's.

Max nods her thanks to Chloe and takes her bag back.

They make their way carefully to Wells' office. Max follows Chloe, just as she did when they were young. She follows, never trusting that Chloe won't lead her into danger, but trusting that she will lead them both out of it again.

At the end of the hallway, Chloe holds up a hand and Max pauses. Chloe kneels down, then lays out flat on the floor. She slowly pokes her head round the corner. Just as slowly, she eases her head back and gets to her feet.

She beckons Max forward, leans down and cups her hands around Max's ear. In a warm, tickling whisper Chloe says, "One guard. You distract."

Max nods.

She lets her shoulders slump and her feet drag as she walks around the corner. She clutches at the strap of bag with both hands and bites her lip.

As soon as she rounds the corner, Max says, "Oh! Um...excuse me?"

The guard is a big man in his mid-thirties. He has a lamp and cudgel in his hands, a sword and a knife in his belt.

He frowns at her. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here this late." He slowly advances on her. "You shouldn't be here at all..."

Max takes a nervous step back. "O-oh, I know! I...I'm sorry, I was sent to do some filing and...it was so quiet and I've been working so hard lately...I fell asleep..." Max looks down at the floor.

He closes in, raising his lamp to study her face. "I don't recognise you."

Max groans. "It's my first day! Please..." Max raises her head, and flinches back another step from the light in her face. "I don't want to get fired," she whispers miserably.

The guard snorts. "You'll be lucky if you're not beaten and thrown in a cell. You're coming with me."

"Please, I didn't do anything!" Max retreats another step and cowers.

The guard laughs and strides toward her, past the wall Chloe's pressed flat against. He walks right past her before his eyes widen with realisation.

That's when Chloe hits him.

She pounces on him and wraps her arms around his throat. The guard's eyes bulge. He tries to cry out, but he can't get any air through his throat. He drops his club and lantern.

Max catches both. When he goes for his knife, she raps the back of his hand with his own weapon. Before he can try for it again, he passes out.

Chloe eases him to the floor. She's breathing hard, and shaking from exertion.

Max finds no comfort in the certain fact that Avaradun is in worse shape.

They find an empty room, and, with some effort, they haul him in. Chloe binds and gags him with strips of his shirt. Max snuffs out the lantern. She leaves all his weapons on the opposite side of the room, but the lantern she keeps.

When they're done, they exchange a look. Chloe grins at her. Max grins back.

They move on.

* * *

They stop twice more before they get to Wells' office. In each case they only have to wait for a few minutes until a guard passes.

Max has lost some sense of time waiting in the windowless room. She's lost some urgency, too. She's aware of all her problems, and how pressing they are, but they exert no _pressure_ on her.

Chloe is more anxious, upping the pace after their encounter with the first guard.

Max suspects that they're on some kind of deadline to Victoria's diversion. She suspects that they spent too long waiting and that they won't have much time in Wells' office.

It's hard to care about that, and impossible to regret the way they spent their time.

When they reach Wells' office, Chloe goes to work on the lock while Max stands lookout.

It's the worst part of the night so far. Max just has to stand there, and hope that nothing bad happens. There's nothing she can do if it does.

Chloe seems to take forever, but it's only a few minutes before the lock clicks and they slip into Wells' empty office.

Chloe closes the door behind them. Max places the lantern on the desk. She takes flint and tinder from her bag.

Chloe whispers, "Wait!"

Chloe digs into her own bag and pulls out a roll of some thick, quilted cloth. She wedges it into the gap between the door and the floor. "Okay," she says.

Max lights the lantern. She nods at the door. "Clever."

Chloe grins. "Tools of the trade. I wasn't really kidding about being the best burglar in Arcadia."

Max sighs. "Yeah...we've both changed, huh?"

Chloe nods soberly. "You didn't used to be so good at lying. Back with the guard there..."

Max rubs the back of her neck. "I've...had a lot of practice."

They look at each other for a moment.

Chloe asks, too cheerfully, "So! You figure out where the safe is yet?"

Max shakes her head. "Hmm. Let's see...oh! Could you reach up and pull down those books? _Principles of Early Arcadian Taxation_?"

Chloe smirks. "You think it's behind them?"

Chloe pulls the four volumes down and puts them on Wells' desk. There's only a blank wall behind the books.

"Sorry, Max! Bad guess."

Max chuckles. "You already know where it is, don't you, burglar?"

Chloe grins. "Well, Victoria got us in here yesterday. And I did the bored asshole bodyguard thing, pacing up and down, y'know?"

Chloe starts pacing deliberately toward the corner on the right behind Wells' desk. Max tilts her head and listens. Chloe stops and says, "I figured out that it must be behind that panel, because..." She raises her eyebrows, challenging Max.

Max grins. "The bending of the floorboards. They give more where the safe is because the extra weight has bowed them over the years."

Chloe nods, beaming. "Not bad, Max. Might make a thief of you, yet! Not sure what you were thinking with the books, though..."

Chloe hunkers down and slips a knife out of her bag. She works the tip of the blade into the seam between the panel and the wall and levers it out. She props it carefully against the wall beside her. A heavy iron safe squats in the dark space she's opened up.

Max sits in Wells' chair and plucks volume one from the desk. She leafs through the book. "It's something to do while you work on the safe. I'd only get in the way. Oh!"

Chloe glances back at her. "Oh?"

"Could you unlock..." Max runs her fingertips across the handles of the desk drawers. "Uh...top right for me?"

Chloe shrugs. "Sure." She produces her roll of lockpicks and has the desk drawer open in less than ten seconds.

Max opens the drawer and digs out Wells' seal. She takes Chloe's new travel papers and a stick of wax from her bag, melts the wax in the lantern flame, and puts the official seal of Arcadia's Magistrate on Chloe's papers.

"There."

"What?" Chloe turns away from her study of the safe. She's frowning, now.

"Your travel papers." Max holds them out to Chloe.

She stares at them, eyes widening. "Are you...are you serious, Max?"

"I wrote them up this morning. You still want them, right?"

Chloe takes the documents in a trembling hand. She tucks them into her pocket. She almost crushes Max when she lunges at her and hugs her. "Thanks. I thought...Gods, I thought so many times that I'd never make it out of here! Thank you, Max."

Max awkwardly returns the hug with her free arm, patting vaguely at Chloe's back.

Chloe abruptly pulls away. "Uh, this safe is looking like it might take a while. Keep an ear out, okay?"

Max nods. She picks up the book again.

Chloe rolls her eyes. "What, is Kronus giving you a headache?"

Max shakes her head. "It's interesting."

Chloe snorts. "Oookay, then. Have fun, Max." She hunkers down in front of the safe and begins to dig more tools out of her bag. "Why you'd want to read a bunch of books about taxes, I don't...no. No!"

Max doesn't look up from her reading, but she does permit herself a faint smile.

Chloe glares at her. "You...that's Wells' journal, isn't it?"

"Uh huh. But, shh. Reading."

Chloe grits her teeth. "Max... _how_...?"

Max turns a page. "Oh, well, when I was in here earlier I got him talking and guided the conversation toward the word 'secrets'. He immediately looked at that section of shelving, so..."

Chloe looks at Max, then at the shelves. "They would have been behind you at the time..."

"I was watching his eyes. I calculated based on that, then went for the most boring title on the shelf."

"Max..."

Chloe sounds different, so Max looks up.

Chloe smiles at her, almost shyly. "Okay...I'm impressed."

Max smiles back.

For a moment, it's just the two of them, not safe, but feeling sheltered.

That's when they hear heavy boots and the scrape of steel outside the door.

That's when the screaming starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I have discovered something unexpected: I kinda like writing Max and Chloe scenes. Who could have even guessed such a thing?
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed this. I...feel the tone shifted a bit, and I hope that wasn't too jarring, but...Max and Chloe are kinda the only people who actually know each other really well and as friends who have had any kind of time to just hang out so far. I figured some of their natural dynamic asserting itself made sense. 
> 
> Let me know in the comments if you agree, or disagree, or want to talk about something else, because I value your words at least as much as you value mine.


	23. Enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the more violent chapters I've written. There's no grue or explicit nastiness, but there's violence, and conflicts of principles ahead. Just a heads up, if you're not in the mood for that sort of thing right now.

Kate and Victoria have taken shelter in a doorway a block away from Blackwell. They're huddled in their cloaks, with their hoods up. It's dark, except for the soft light that leaks through infrequent gaps in shuttered windows.

Chloe's been gone for over an hour.

Kate knows that Victoria is beside her, in spite of the fact that she can only see in a narrow arc in front of her. The last time Kate turned her head to look at Victoria, the taller woman snapped, "Stay still, Kate. I'm not going to fucking sneak off."

Kate doesn't point out that that's precisely what Victoria did when they first got here. When they parted ways with Chloe, Victoria simply left Kate in this doorway and went to arrange a distraction for later.

Kate's not sure what that will be, but Victoria's been increasingly tense since she came back.

Kate tries to stay still. She tries not to think.

But there's nothing else to do in the muffled dark, where time passes grudgingly.

Kate thinks about Chloe. On the way to Blackwell, Chloe had broken their strained silence only to stop the carriage. Chloe darted into a pawn shop and disappeared inside for a few minutes. She came back with a heavy bag and a grim look on her face.

Kate thinks that the bag contains burglary tools. She suspects that Chloe stashed them in that pawn shop because the owner also fenced the products of Chloe's theft. Kate thinks that the appearance of Chloe from a carriage bearing the Prescott arms probably burned a contact of hers.

Chloe is desperate to save Max.

Kate knows that Chloe can't save Max from Kronus' essence. But Chloe doesn't know, because Kate didn't tell her. Kate thinks that when the truth comes out, Chloe will be angry. That's if Chloe is even still in the city to be angry with anyone...

Kate bites her lip.

There hasn't been time to prepare the things that Max needs for the ritual of transference. And Kate knows the theory, but she's never performed such a rite. She worries that a mistake could be fatal. And given that such rituals allow the transferring of essence between two _known_ , willing, and compatible blessed people...and that they don't know who the recipient will be...

The margin for error is high. The danger to Max, and to Elysium, is considerable.

Victoria shifts her weight. Her leather breastplate creaks and the sword at her hip scrapes against the wall behind her. She curses, softly.

Kate says, "Are you-"

"I'm fine," Victoria snaps. Quietly, she adds, "I just don't like waiting."

"It's okay. I'm worried, too."

The texture of Victoria's silence changes.

Kate waits.

"It's close, now..." Victoria shifts again. "I didn't really believe we'd find it. Kronus' essence, I mean. And now...just another couple of days and this can all be over. No more lying and hiding and plotting. Things are going to be better. I'm going to make things better."

Kate frowns. "I don't...what are we going to do about Nathan? And Max..."

"Nathan is...misguided. Clearly. But he just needs help. I'll get him help."

"You can't go through with the wedding, can you?"

"That's...I won't have to. Not if we get things right tonight." Victoria tugs down her hood.

"Victoria, Max is...I should have told you sooner, but, Max-"

Victoria says, distractedly, "Max isn't going to be an issue. You don't have to worry. We'll take care of Max, Kate."

"We...?" Kate does turn to look at Victoria, then. She's peering into the drizzly gloom with her lips sightly turned down. "What is it...?"

Victoria looks at her. She smiles, but it's tinged with sadness. "They're here." Victoria puts her hand on Kate's shoulder. "You...be careful, Kate. Okay? The next little while is going to be dangerous."

"More than it has already?" Kate tries to smile, but her lips do little more than twitch into a grimace.

"Kate." Victoria bites her lip. "You _need_ to be careful."

"Victoria...I don't understand-"

Victoria removes her hand. She straightens up, and her tone hardens. "Lady Chase. For the next couple of days, I'm Lady Chase. Don't forget it again."

Kate doesn't have time to process that before cloaked figures emerge from the gloom, silent and purposeful.

The leader of this new group throws back her hood and smiles at Victoria. "Victoria. Praise Aram, it's good to see you."

Victoria doesn't smile, but she does incline her head. "Courtney. Justicars. It's good to see you all."

The newcomers pull down their hoods and open their cloaks. Justicars. Aram's paladins. A half-dozen of them, young men and women, all armed and armoured. They all salute Victoria.

Courtney, a blue-eyed brunette, seems to be the leader, although she's only Kate's age and not the oldest in the group. She glances at Kate, smirks, and raises an eyebrow at Victoria.

Victoria puts her hand on Kate's shoulder, but there's no comfort in the gesture this time. "This is Kate Marsh. A true servant of the faith."

They all stare at her. Some are curious, some dismissive, but none are friendly.

Courtney nods at Kate. In a sweetly false tone she says, "We'll be sure to take good care of her, Lady Chase."

Victoria steps away from Kate, into the midst of the Justicars, and abruptly Kate feels alone. "Um...Lady Chase, what are we going to do?"

Victoria addresses the Justicars. "Our priority is the bearer, Max. She's a thin girl, shabbily dressed, about Kate's height and age, with short brown hair. We have someone inside with her, Chloe. We need to make sure that they get out of Blackwell, and that we get them somewhere safe."

"Understood." Courtney glances at Kate again. "We've made all the necessary arrangements."

Victoria nods. "Good. That's...good. We have to...make things right. We can't fail..."

Courtney snaps, "Justicars! Scout and report. Sarah! You're on sentry."

They quickly and quietly disperse, leaving only Kate, Victoria and Courtney.

Tentatively, Courtney touches Victoria's forearm. "We all know what we're getting into. What the risks are. We're all here for you. What is it your mother always says?"

Victoria takes a deep breath and blows it out shakily. "The hardest thing to do is become who you are meant to be. Alright. I'm alright. Let's get this done."

Kate feels like an eavesdropper, an intruder. She also keenly feels the nagging sensation that she's missing something obvious, something important.

But so is Victoria, it would seem, and since Kate is already intruding, she says, "Lady Chase? Aren't you going to tell them..."

Her words dry up when Courtney glares at her. Victoria frowns and quickly shakes her head at Kate.

"What's she talking about?" Courtney looks between them, frowning.

"It's not important-"

"Max is the Lawspeaker."

Now Victoria is glaring at Kate, and Kate shrinks into her cloak but returns that glare with a defiant look.

Courtney snorts. "Right. She obviously does not know what she's talking about." Courtney stares at Victoria's face. "Victoria...is she fucking serious?"

Victoria whips her head round. Courtney flinches and backs off a step.

"It doesn't matter. For Elysium, Courtney."

Courtney gasps. "Oh, Gods...fuck. F-for Elysium. I'm with you."

Kate advances on them. "What's going on, Victoria?" Courtney rounds on her, but Kate ignores her scandalised look. "This isn't part of any plan we've discussed."

"How dare you address Lady Chase in that manner! I will personally make sure you regret every word, you little-"

"Courtney." Victoria doesn't take her eyes off of Kate. Her mouth is a hard, angry line.

Courtney stops talking.

Victoria says, "You were told as much as you needed to know for the sake of the mission, Kate. And _I've_ told you: I'm doing what's best for Elysium."

The red-haired girl, Sarah, hisses, and Courtney nods at Victoria before jogging towards the sentry.

Kate says, "What are you going to do to Max, Victoria? Why don't you want them to know that she's the Lawspeaker?"

"I'm going to make sure Kronus' essence ends up where it should. That's all. Kate...you've done your part. Let me do mine."

"Victoria, Max is sick! She could die if the ritual isn't done correctly! And we don't even know if it will _work_ until we've dealt with the sorcerer! With Nathan. You have to-"

"You didn't tell me this before. Why didn't you...?" Victoria shakes her head. "It doesn't matter. I can deal with Nathan. And I don't want Max to...but it's just one life, Kate. Against millions. I'm doing what has to be done. Max is a...necessary sacrifice."

Out of the corner of her eye, Kate sees hooded figures approaching. The Justicars coming back. She doesn't have much time.

"I can see you're conflicted. I can't help you if I don't understand what you're trying to do, Victoria. Please?"

Victoria's expression wavers. She opens her mouth, but Kate never gets to hear what she was going to say.

A rough voice, a man's voice, says, "Well, well. Look who it is. We've a score to settle with you."

There are eight of them, in cloaks and coats. The one speaking wears a grey cap on his head. They all hold clubs, and hatchets, and even swords. They all stare at Kate with hatred in their eyes.

These aren't the Justicars, after all. It's the men who chased Kate and Chloe the other day.

Grey Cap points a sword at Kate's chest. "We owe you and your friend a world of pain, defiled one. You'll suffer for every one of ours who suffered, before we take you to him."

Beyond Grey Cap, more figures become visible, many more. They seem to be headed to Blackwell.

They're going after Max. They're going after _Chloe_.

And there's nothing Kate can do.

Grey Cap grins and slowly advances on Kate. "Yeah, you should be afraid..."

"I hate this fucking city." There's the sound of steel clearing a scabbard. Victoria steps in front of Kate, blade in her hand. "People keep forgetting that I'm Lady Victoria Chase. You'll never fucking touch her. Walk away, or die."

They don't walk away.

Grey Cap roars, and they rush Victoria, weapons ready.

* * *

Kate retreats to the shelter of the doorway, but Victoria stays stock still. Only her eyes move, as she studies her opponents.

Victoria seems calm. Kate is terrified.

Victoria is outnumbered. She doesn't have Chloe's strength. She doesn't have Chloe's speed, or ferocity.

Victoria's lips move, as if she's quietly...counting?

As Grey Cap closes on her, Victoria takes two quick steps to the right, turning so she remains facing Grey Cap and putting him between her and most of the rest of his men.

Grey Cap lunges at her, but Victoria backs up a half step. She twists her body and uses her sword to deflect the line of Grey Cap's attack. The point of his sword is pushed wide of Victoria by her blade and his momentum pushes the point nearly a foot past her.

Right into the chest of a club-wielding attacker who had tried to blindside Victoria.

Grey Cap gapes in shock at his dying companion.

Victoria opens Grey Cap's throat with a swipe of her blade while he's distracted. She circles to her left, toward the rest of Grey Cap's crew, before either of the dead ones hit the ground.

One of them charges at her, sword in hand, screaming in hate.

Victoria sidesteps his attack and thrusts six inches of steel into his heart, withdrawing her blade effortlessly in the same motion.

She doesn't even break stride. Her expression is one of concentration, nothing more, and her lips move as if she's counting steps in a dance.

There are five of them left, and their friends are bleeding on the cobbles. Maybe that's why they try to surround her, instead of running.

They surround her, and they close in, but none of them wants to be first to attack.

Victoria doesn't pause. She moves as if every step was rehearsed a dozen times this afternoon. She twists to her left and lunges at a swordsman. He's quick, if clumsy, in his parry, but the attack was a feint. With a quick adjustment of her fingers, Victoria drops the point of her sword, and a flick of her wrist rolls her blade under his guard. She surges forward, arm straightening, impaling him.

A man with a club tries to take advantage of Victoria's exposed back, but she keeps moving forward, pushing the dying man into one of his companions, knocking them both down, and just staying out reach of the man behind her. 

Victoria lets go of her sword and plucks the knife from the dying man's belt. She ducks her head as she takes the knife, and her attacker's club passes barely an inch over her head.

He takes another swing as Victoria straightens up, but she lashes out with her fist, catching the inside of his forearm before the blow can land. His fingers fly open, and his club sails through the air and slams into the face of a knife-wielder who was closing in on Victoria's other side.

Yelling in rage, the disarmed man grabs Victoria and spins her round, raising his fist to punch her. Victoria lets him pull her back, turning in his grasp and slamming her stolen knife up and into his armpit. He cries out again, more in shock than pain. Victoria shoves his chest and he stumbles back until he trips over another body.

He doesn't get up again.

Of the three that are left, one is clutching his bloody nose, too distracted by the pain of being hit by a club to see what's happening. Another is still struggling upright.

The last man screams and hurls himself at Victoria.

Victoria doesn't hurry. She doesn't run. She just doesn't stop moving, and every movement is purposeful, _planned_.

She moves between the fallen bodies, leaving no clear path for the cloaked man to attack her. His charge falters when he almost trips over someone's leg. Victoria has plenty of time to pick up a fallen sword and stride briskly toward the man clutching his nose, the one nearest Kate.

He runs.

Victoria ignores him, swivelling to meet the last uninjured man. He attacks her desperately, hacking wildly with his hatchet. Victoria dodges one blow, her sword flickering out in a counter-attack he barely avoids. Victoria sidesteps another attack, then simply turns her body a few inches to let a third glance off the rigid leather of her breastplate.

She punches him in the gut with the pommel of her sword, doubling him over. Her blade rises, and falls, and it's over.

It really is, for the moment, Kate realises. The fleeing man is down, Courtney standing over him. Sarah has blood on her rapier, too, from the one who got knocked over.

There are more of them out there, at least a score of them. But they've seemingly moved onto Blackwell and the night is quiet again.

It won't last. Sooner or later, someone will go for the guard.

And sooner or later, the rest of Grey Cap's people will launch their assault on Blackwell.

Victoria cuts a strip of cloth from a dead man's cloak. She cleans her sword methodically as she approaches Kate. "Are you alright?"

Kate nods. She chews her lip and hides her shaking hands under her cloak. "You...thank you. For-"

Victoria glares at her. "It's my duty. I'm responsible for you." She shakes her head. "These must be Nathan's thugs. We're going to need to move quickly, Kate. And you're not suited to this work. I'm sending you with Sarah. She'll take you somewhere safe."

Kate takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself. It's hard, with so much pain and fear in the air. "Please. I need to be here, to help you. And I need to make sure that Max is-"

"No, Kate. You're leaving." Whatever doubt, whatever guilt was bothering Victoria is gone, leaving only steel in its place. "Sarah will drag you away if she has to. You're not meant to be part of what happens here tonight." 

Victoria drops the bloody rag at Kate's feet and turns her back on her.

Kate stares numbly at the ground. There's a label, on the rag, she notices idly, a label identifying some rich tailor's business. It's meaningless. It's just a distraction from the looming sense that everything is wrong, and growing more wrong with each passing minute.

Kate doesn't try to get Victoria's attention. She waits and she prays and she tries not to think about anything at all.

The rest of the Justicars assemble over the next few minutes, all of them looking grim, all of them with bloodied weapons in their hands.

And as each arrives, Kate notes, they report to, and take up a defensive stance around, Victoria.

When they're all assembled, they plan quickly and quietly, and soon they're all moving together towards Blackwell.

Victoria doesn't spare Kate so much as a glance in passing.

The redhead, Sarah, grabs Kate's arm and hauls her out of the doorway. "Come on," she snaps. "I've got to babysit you. Stay close and keep quiet."

Kate yanks her arm free. "Don't tug at me. And you're the one making all the noise."

Sarah's face reddens, but she doesn't touch Kate after that, or say another word.

* * *

They're less than a street away when the screaming starts.

Sarah looks back the way they came.

Kate says, "Go. I'll be fine. I'll make my own way back to the palace."

Sarah snorts. "You're not going back to the palace, idiot. We're going back to Skald after we...never mind." She flushes and glares at Kate.

Kate nods meekly, but her heart is thundering and fear sits sour in her belly. "Alright."

She watches Sarah carefully from the corner of her eye.

"Oh, please. I saw the way you were treating Lady Chase. Don't pretend you're one of us." Sarah sneers, "You need to understand, you're just in the way. You're not a noble. You've got no clue what's really happening."

"I'm a priestess of Aram. And a citizen of Elyisum. I may not be a noble, but..."

Kate's eyes widen as her mind catches up with what she saw on the bloody rag Victoria left at her feet. And just like that, Kate knows what was strange about the way their attackers were dressed. And just like that, she knows who the sorcerer must be.

"We have to go back. I have to warn Chloe and Max...oh, I got it wrong! And now Victoria's-"

"Shut up!" Sarah's face reddens. Her hand slips under her cloak. "I told you, you're coming with me. I'd rather not carry you, but I'm done listening to you. Last warning."

Kate's alone, in the dark, and, she realises, surrounded by enemies. If she goes with Sarah, she'll be safe. It's Victoria's duty to protect her. If Kate does anything else, she'll become Victoria's enemy. And her Justicars won't hesitate to stop Kate. So she can submit to Victoria's will, and be safe, or...

She can do the harder thing, and be who she _is_.

Victoria is going to do something awful. And Chloe can't stop Victoria, not while she's oathbound to her. And Max is in no condition to fight Victoria.

It's up to Kate to find a way through all the chaos tonight and save her friends from each other, and from their true enemy.

Even as she gathers her courage, Kate can't help but groan at what she's about to do.

Sarah snaps, "I told you to be quiet! You need to learn to respect your betters."

Kate feels the last of her doubt wash away, replaced by pity for the young woman beside her. Kate stops and faces Sarah. "My betters? That's a strange thing for a servant of Aram to say. I'm a priestess, not a Justicar, but we both serve others, Sarah. I would have said that makes us equals. But you're putting your faith in the wrong place. We're both here in the darkness, but I'm not the one who's lost."

Sarah's face twists. "How dare you! You're just a stupid, ignorant little _freak_. You don't know what we're trying to achieve! You-"

She's interrupted by the sound of steel clashing against steel. It sounds close; closer, Kate hopes, than it really is.

Sarah looks around warily.

As soon as she's distracted, Kate shoves her as hard as she can. Sara is quick, but if anything, her speed is an impediment. She tries to bring her hand out from under her cloak and strike Kate even as she tries to dodge.

Sara gets tangled in her cloak, trips, and falls flat on her back. She drops the sap she was evidently planning on using on Kate a moment ago.

Kate scoops it up and hits Sarah's head as gently as she dares before the other woman can stand.

Kate winces. "Sorry! I hope that doesn't hurt too much later."

Screams reach her ears. Kate looks back, and she thinks she can see a red glow in the direction of Blackwell. She fears she can smell smoke.

Kate whispers a prayer for all of them, lost in the dark, surrounded by fire and blood.

She grips the sap tightly, her faith tighter, and runs towards the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as ever for reading!
> 
> Things are moving along now, and while I've got a couple of other things I want to update in the next week, I will be trying to get this finished sooner rather than later. So if my brain stays in general agreement with me, you can expect me to update Law more frequently again. I haven't quite figured out how many chapters are left, but we're down to single digits, I think.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you're all well, and that the world is being kind to you.


	24. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More violence. More not so good times for our girls. Sorry.

The first scream comes from outside the building, but it's from somewhere nearby and there's no doubt it's someone crying out in pain. Chloe's more worried by the immediate threat outside the office door, though. Chloe has a knife in her hand and her body between Max and the door before it can fully open.

When it does, she relaxes. Slightly. "David? I thought you were keeping Wells busy?"

David steps into the room, sword in hand and worry on his face. "Thank the Gods you're alright. We've got to get you out of here. Now."

Chloe groans and grabs her bag of tools. "What is it? Ducal Guard?"

"No. We have to hope they'll get here soon," Max says. She starts packing Wells' journals into her bag. "It's the people who attacked you the other day, Chloe. I don't suppose you've figured out who they are, David?"

As much as Chloe hates it when Max does that, she enjoys the confusion on David's face. In spite of the weakness in her chest, the shakiness of her limbs, and the fear in her gut, Chloe grins. "David, meet my best friend, Max. She does that a lot, and it's never not annoying."

He snorts, and shakes his head. "I don't know who any of them are, but there's people fighting outside. And, yeah, they're trying to break in. I've got a dozen people here. They're seriously outnumbered, so they'll fall back and barricade the main building. You two need to be gone before that happens."

"People fighting outside? Huh." Max slings her bag over her shoulder. "Ready. What's the plan?"

Chloe says, "Wait, what about your people here? What about Wells?"

"I left Wells drunk in a tavern a few streets away. And the guards here...they know what they're getting paid for. You're my priority, Chloe."

Chloe sighs. "Fuck, would you stop...okay." She offers him as much of a smile as she can muster. "Let's just go."

David hesitates, then grimaces back at her. "We're going out the back. When we get outside, try to stay on the path."

Chloe nods. "Got it." She grabs Max's right hand in her left. "Stay close. No running off, okay?"

Max smiles, slightly. "No running off. Promise."

She's gripping something in her left fist, Chloe notices. Before she can ask about it, David raises a finger to his lips.

David cracks open the door, sticks his head out and looks around. He steps out into the corridor and motions for them to follow him.

Chloe looks at Max. She's small, thin, with dark smudges under her eyes, bruises darkening on her cheeks. She's pretending she's calm, but Chloe knows she's scared.

Chloe knows other things, too. "Hey," she whispers. "I need you to get me through this, okay? You're the strong one."

Her eyes widen, and her lips part, just like they used to when they were kids. It's a goofy, half-stunned, look. There were other children back then who tried to pick on Max because they thought she was stupid.

Chloe has always known better. Max has always been a thinker. She's just better at speaking up these days.

Still, surprising Max is trickier than it used to be. So, putting that expression on her face puts an honest grin on Chloe's.

Chloe squeezes her hand and follows David into the darkness.

* * *

At first, it's just a layered sort of quiet. Around the three of them is the sound of people trying to be silent. The faint rustle of cloth, creak of leather, groan of a floorboard.

There's the sound of the building around them, the way it strains slowly against the forces that will, in time, pull it down. The way it muffles other people moving carefully.

And then there's the sounds of combat, confused and distorted by distance and the barriers of walls and windows, but obvious enough to Chloe.

They make it to the main stairway, and abruptly everything is commotion. The doors burst open, as David's guards retreat into the building. Out in the grounds, men and women shout and scream as they pursue and fall fall of the tricks and traps the garden contain.

Chloe doesn't get a good look, before the doors are slammed and bolted, but it seems like there's a small army of attackers out there. And they look very much like the people who tried to take Chloe and Kate the other day.

David hustles them away from the main stairs before anyone below can spot them. There's another set of stairs in the corner of the building. That's how David brought Chloe up to the room he was keeping Max in.

For a moment, things become eerily quiet again. It's dark, and the sound of her breath, and the feel of Max's hand, sweaty in hers, are the things Chloe's most aware of.

Until glass breaks downstairs, and someone starts barking orders below. There's a crash as something heavy slams into the main doors, and the sound of splintering wood which must be the ground floor shutters being attacked.

There's the slithery rasp of steel being drawn. There's a frantic prayer to Crikos, for strength to endure.

They get to the corner stairs and head down, accompanied by the sounds of glass and wood breaking.

They make it to the ground floor, bear the kitchens, and there's another crash, and a thud, from somewhere nearby.

Chloe grabs David's shirt. He flinches, and looks back at her, eyes wide and angry.

Into another sudden silence, a silence that isn't silence at all, but an edge, a brink, Chloe breathes, "Wait."

He glares at her, furious, and nods once, jerkily.

Because they both know what's going to happen next, and what Chloe's asking of David.

He looks away, jaw working as he grinds his teeth.

They wait, but not for long. There's a yell, the sound of rushing feet over broken glass, the sound of steel clashing, of steel meeting flesh, of the inevitable consequence of such a meeting.

There's a sudden, booming chaos of screaming, fighting, dying. It's all around them, though they can't see any of it. Yet.

It's the perfect cover for their escape.

Chloe looks at David. His nostrils flare, but he nods.

He guides them through the kitchens, to the back door. He lifts the bar and leaves his people to fight and die in the darkness behind them.

* * *

They don't make it far.

Blackwell's defences were meant to stop burglars, not a mob. There's at least a dozen people in the back court. Unlike the front, the stables and a few other shacks and huts block line of sight. So it's hard to tell how many more are lurking in the dark.

Some have fallen foul of the ditch behind the wall. Others are being slowed by the thorns hidden in the shrubbery. But enough of them are close to the back door, and a few are already moving towards the kitchen.

Chloe knows they have to make a decision, right now. Fight through, or fall back.

David curses. "We won't make it!"

Chloe snarls, "We're fucked if we stay here! Shit, we need some cover. There has to be _something_ around we can use, David."

Max says, "Are there any horses in the stables?"

Chloe weighs the odds of cutting their way to the stables, and getting out again, on horseback. She doesn't like them.

David says, "No. It's mostly for couriers, and visiting scholars, or nobles. I took a carriage here. There's no horses we can use."

"Good." Max slips out of Chloe's grasp and out into the lamplight. She says, "Buy me some time."

Chloe's about to ask why, but Max hauls her left arm back, and snaps it forward. Something small and heavy leaves her hand, hissing through the night. It nails one of a pair of lanterns, suspended from a pole. The wick is snuffed out, and bits of glass and drops of oil patter down onto one of the huts.

It's a little darker, and that's no bad thing. But more of the cloaked figures have noticed them, and that's not a good thing.

Max reaches into her bag and rummages around until she comes up with something that has a dull, metallic sheen.

"What the fuck is that?" Chloe asks.

"Sling bullets," Max says. She lets fly, and another lantern, on another pole, shatters and goes out.

Chloe slowly grins. "You always did win at skipping stones, didn't you?"

Max smiles, faintly, and prepares another bullet. "Well, there had to be _something_ I was better at than you."

And Chloe wonders how Max, of all people, could believe that that was the only thing she was better at than Chloe.

Chloe frowns. "Try to take out both lanterns on the nearest poles, Max. We need some cover, fast."

Max just grunts.

Chloe scans her surroundings, while there's still light to see by.

They're at the left corner of the main building. To their left is the outer wall. On the other side of that is the stream, running downhill. There's not much cover on their left, but it looks like their assailants have attacked Blackwell from the front and the back, and the side of the building should be clear.

For now.

There's more of the hedges and thorn bushes Chloe saw in the front grounds here, leaving only a few narrow paths clear between the kitchen and the broken gates where even more armed people are pouring in.

If they're going to fight in the open, this is about as good a position as they can hope for.

Chloe really doesn't like the idea of trying to escape under cover of darkness. There's too great a chance that they could get separated. And she isn't sure Max can get all the lanterns from here.

But if they retreat to the main building, they'll be trapped. And that means that sooner or later, they'll be caught, or dead.

"Great. Terrible fucking escape plan it is!"

Max shatters another lantern, snuffing out the flame and spilling oil into the bushes below. "Chloe...they're coming."

Chloe fights back the instinct to drag Max behind her again. She looks at the knife in her hand, snorts, and ducks back into the kitchen. She grabs the heavy wooden bar and heads back out, putting herself between Max and the nearest trouble.

David takes up position on Max's other side.

Max has taken out another lantern, and is already throwing again. The garden is getting darker, and Chloe supposes that will help, but...

A cloaked man screams and throws himself at Max. Chloe swivels, swinging the oak bar in her hands. She hits his chest and sends him sprawling. Max flashes her a nervous smile, and destroys another lantern.

Chloe sees David cutting down a woman in a ragged coat. She catches movement out of the corner of her eye, and turns to find two men bearing down on her.

She swings again, hammering one of them with enough force to slam him into the wall of Blackwell's main building.

The other ducks low and tries to tackle her, but Chloe drops the bar, grabs his outstretched arms, pulling them apart, and knees him in the face. She's not sure if she breaks his nose, or his jaw, but he stops trying to fight her after that.

She grabs the bar, and glances behind her.

David is holding off two of the fuckers, and quite handily at that. But there's more coming at them, so Chloe yells, "Down!"

David drops flat, narrowly avoiding an axe blow that would have disemboweled him, but leaving himself completely exposed to his other opponent's raised sword.

Chloe wonders when David started trusting her with his life. Before she's forced to wonder if he maybe always has, and her mind can crack under the strain of accommodating that idea, she screams in fury and hurls the bar.

It scythes through the air, and hits lengthwise, knocking both of David's would be killers on their asses. Chloe put everything she had into that throw. She'll be surprised if either of them will be getting up in a hurry.

Chloe hopes that her breath will recover a bit more quickly. "Fucking...Avaradun... _shit_."

David scrambles to his feet, and takes up position in front of Max.

Chloe scoops up a fallen axe and sets herself parallel to David on Max's right side.

She examines her new weapon. It's a battle axe. An old one, and not well-maintained. There head of the axe is rusty. But the edge has been honed recently, and it's heavy and sturdy enough. It'll do.

Max says, "Get ready!"

Chloe is about to point out that it isn't dark enough yet, when her brain catches up with what she's seeing.

Max has destroyed only one of the lanterns on each of the nearby poles by shattering the glass and snuffing out the wicks. The broken lanterns have been leaking oil into the grass, the bushes, and even onto the wooden outbuildings.

Max throws again, and this time she hits the hook holding one of the undamaged lanterns in place.

It snaps.

The lantern drops into a bush.

There's the incongruously merry tinkle of breaking glass.

There's the slow, sullen spread of dull red flames in the thorn bush.

Max takes aim, and brings down another lantern.

Chloe sees movement beside her and automatically deflects a sword thrust with the head of her axe. She yanks down, and twists, trapping the sword between the curve of her blade and the haft of the axe. She slams her elbow into her attacker's face, drives her knee into his stomach, and stomps on his sword hand when he drops, for good measure.

David says, "Gods!"

Chloe looks up, and Blackwell's grounds are on fire.

All around them, men and women in cloaks and coats are panicking. Flames sprouts from bushes, outbuildings, from the grass. A couple of cloaks have caught fire, too, and their wearers are struggling out of them, or rolling on the ground, trying to smother the flames.

Their attack has been almost entirely baulked.

The flames are spreading, threatening to join up and consume much of the garden, but there are still paths through the fire.

In the glow of the fire, Max's calm expression slips. She looks horrified and just about ready to throw up.

Chloe grabs Max's hand. "If this doesn't kill us, it's just saved us. I'm very, very impressed. Now, _move_!"

* * *

It's blood, heat, and smoke after that.

It's madness.

David leads them, with Max in the middle, and Chloe bringing up the rear.

Chloe keeps as careful an eye on them both as she can. She watches to see what places David avoids stepping on, and to make sure Max doesn't step on them, either.

The fire takes hold of the outbuildings, and the shrubs, and the night glows orange and becomes hazy with smoke.

It's only fifty feet to the gate.

Or it would be, if they could travel in a straight line.

But they have to avoid Blackwell's traps, the flames, and the people trying to kill them. It makes everything take a lot longer.

Chloe isn't sure how many people David cuts down on their scramble through the garden. Two? Three? But she does know that he's merciless, and obviously a better fighter than any of the people who challenge him.

Chloe isn't sure how many people attack her, either. There's at least two who hurl themselves desperately at her, but she knocks them down easily enough, with the butt or haft of her axe.

If anyone else tries to hit her, or actually does, she doesn't notice. It's disconcerting, being even slightly invulnerable. And not being able to make use of the fact that she is only makes Chloe more nervous than she normally would be in a fight.

That, and the fire, and the smoke that has her coughing and wheezing.

Chloe grits her teeth and presses on. She holds the axe in her right hand, puts her left against Max's back.

Max jumps, and almost stumbles when she looks over her shoulder. But she smiles nervously at Chloe, and she keeps pushing forward.

Chloe watches a woman in a coat blunder through the smoke, and trip over a bush, almost cutting herself with her own knife.

Chloe frowns.

These people aren't trained fighters. Their panic in the face of the fire suggests they're lacking in leadership. Their attempts to tackle Chloe and David suggest they're lacking in sense.

These aren't soldiers, or even gang members. These are just...people. People that someone has armed and set loose. People who are willing to fight, and die, for...what? For who?

For their enemy. For the sorcerer. And that confirms that it can't be Nathan. But who could have this kind of sway over so many people?

Ahead of her, David comes to a halt.

Cool air touches Chloe's skin.

They're near the gate, and the fire isn't so bad here. Chloe just wants to get out, but David hesitates.

Chloe steps around Max, squeezing her watering eyes shut and blinking until things are a little less blurry.

The gate has been broken open. The way out is clear. There's no one around.

"David..." Chloe's voice comes out in a desiccated rasp. She tries to clear her throat, coughs, and goes on coughing.

"We have to keep going," Max says. Her voice doesn't sound much better.

David sounds more or less the same as ever when he growls, "Look. Bodies."

Chloe looks and sees, outside Blackwell's gates, a few cloaked figures sprawled, unmoving, on the ground.

"Your people do this?"

"No," David says. "Not if they're outside. Someone else."

" _Fuck_."

Chloe coughs again, and glances back. The garden is a smoking, glowing ruin. She can pick out silhouettes of cloaked figures, here and there. They're mostly heading for the water under the boundary wall, but how long before more come after them?

How long before someone outside thinks to just block the gate?

As easy as it is to scale Blackwell's wall from outside, it's much more difficult _inside_. The water-filled ditch beneath it makes the wall much higher, and the footing uncertain.

Besides, judging from the screams she's heard so far, Chloe thinks she was right about the bottom of the ditch being lined with broken glass.

The gate is their only way out. Even if it is, almost certainly, a trap.

"We have to go," Max says, again.

Chloe nods. "She's right."

David curses, and unsheathes his knife with his left hand. "I'll go left. You go right. Max, you stay behind Chloe."

They move toward the gate, wary and watchful.

David glances at Chloe, nods, and rushes through the gate, veering left. Chloe lets out a hoarse cry, and charges to the right.

There's no one there. Just more fallen bodies, all wearing cloaks.

David whistles an all clear from where he is.

Chloe knows they're a long way from safe, but even so...she doesn't trust the apparent lack of opposition just as they're at their most vulnerable.

He sheathes his knife, and says, "Where the fuck did all of these people come from? And who gave them weapons?"

Chloe says, "The sorcerer who's behind all this. If we can figure out the link between them..."

Max says, "The fire's going to bring a lot of attention, soon."

David snorts. "And maybe in time to save some of my people..."

Max sighs. "It's...Blackwell's a stone building, so I'm hoping the fire won't spread there. And there's water, and a ditch, so..."

Her shoulders hunch, and she bites her lip, and stares at the rising flames.

David shares a look with Chloe. To Max he says, "You thought fast and came up with a plan to get us out. You saved us, Max. And probably some of my men. I owe you."

Chloe nods. "He's right. Let's focus on getting the fuck away from this place." She grips the axe tighter, and joins Max.

Max says, "Where are we meeting the others?"

David backs away from the gate, sword ready.

Chloe says, "Victoria and Kate were waiting a block or so away, but..."

Max shivers. "They'll be okay, I...hey. Why is she the only one wearing armour?"

Max points at a young brunette woman on the ground, her cloak thrown back just enough to reveal a steel breastplate. There's blood on her armour, and her cloak, but...

"Oh, fuck! _David_!"

There's no wounds visible on her. And her cloak is different from the rest, lighter and...newer. And she has steel armour. And a steel long sword.

Which she scoops up as she rolls to her feet, and slices through David's thigh before he's finished turning in response to Chloe's shout.

David groans and drops to one knee, blood gouting from his leg.

The brunette hops to her feet and faces Chloe. She smiles, sweetly. "This doesn't need to get worse than it is. You can get him help, Chloe. We just need to borrow Max there for a little while."

Chloe takes two steps towards David, but then, down the street, two more armoured men appear, sprinting towards Max. They have saps in their hands, and ropes coiled at their belts.

Chloe hesitates.

David meets her eye, and tries to smile. "Go!"

He launches himself at the brunette, tackling her to the ground. She hisses in fury and hooks an arm around David's, trapping his sword. Her other arm wriggles in between their bodies.

David yells, "Chloe, GO!"

And then he grunts, and groans, and slumps over the brunette.

Chloe gapes, confused, until she sees it. The brunette's knife, sticking out of David's side. Between his ribs...

David stirs, but it's only the woman underneath, cursing as she tries to push him off.

David isn't moving. David isn't breathing.

Max yells, and there's the sound of one of her sling bullets clanging off a breastplate.

David is dead.

Chloe screams, and turns away. She races to meet the two men. The men who are threatening Max. The ones who helped kill David.

A growl bubbles out of Chloe's throat. She grips the axe in both hands.

They try to dodge round her, but Chloe isn't feeling anything other than fury, and they're suddenly much, much too slow. She swings the axe at the man on her left, cleaving through his breastplate, his ribs, his heart.

The haft of the axe snaps, and Chloe tosses the useless kindling aside. The other man tries to hit her with his sap, and Chloe laughs and takes the blow on her left arm. He hits her hard enough to break her arm.

It doesn't even tickle.

His hair is cropped short, so Chloe grabs his ear and yanks his head down. She kicks his legs out from under him, and rides him to the ground. She pauses for just a second, unable to decide on whether to crush his skull between her hands or drive her thumbs through his eyes.

A voice says, "Chloe. Stop."

Chloe blinks. She lifts her head, and Max is there, reaching out for her. Not quite touching her.

Chloe gasps, and becomes aware of the sweat on her skin, her straining lungs, and the tears in her eyes.

Max says, "Chloe, I'm sorry. But we have to run, now. We have to go."

The man underneath her stirs, and tries to throw her off. Chloe slams his head off the cobbles, just once, and not as hard as she'd like to. She pushes herself off of his unconscious body, lurches dizzily away, and almost falls.

Max catches her, and props her up.

Things get fuzzy for a second, as if a grey fog rolls over Chloe, obscuring everything.

When it passes, Chloe finds herself upright, but swaying. Max is holding her, keeping her up, and saying, "I've got you, Chloe. But please, try to walk for me, okay?"

Chloe tries to walk, even though it's difficult for some reason. But it's Max asking, and she sounds scared, so Chloe tries to walk in a straight line beside her.

Chloe hates it when Max gets scared.

Chloe thinks Max might be crying. It's hard to tell, because there's smoke in the air, and Chloe's eyes are watery. But Max crying is worse than her being scared, so Chloe shakes her head, trying to clear it, and mumbles, "It'll be okay, Max. You're with me. You're fine."

Max has an arm around her waist, and she squeezes Chloe tightly. It makes it even more difficult to walk, and that seems unfair. Walking was Max's idea, after all. But Max is already upset, and Chloe doesn't want to make it worse, so she just throws her arm over Max's shoulders, and lets herself be dragged along the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, folks.
> 
> Do please let me know what you thought.
> 
> I have a tumblr these days, @postfuguestate There's not much there yet, but you can always say hello, if you feel so inclined.
> 
> See you soon with the next part.


	25. Refuge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a wee bit overdue. Have a nice, long chapter!

Max has Chloe's ragged breathing in her ears, Chloe's weight on her shoulder, Chloe's warmth against her side.

The rest of Chloe is...somewhere else, somewhere removed from here, removed from her pain, unaware of the blood on her hands, blood she's smeared on Max's cloak and dress.

Max feels sick. Max knew what Hella's blessing was, what it could mean when the bearer of Her essence embraced their anger.

It's one thing to know, another to experience.

"They keep hurting you. I can't help...I make it worse..." Max breaks off, surprised she said anything aloud.

Swaying drunkenly, Chloe says, "'s okay, Max. I'll take care of you."

Max grits her teeth. Chloe needs her. There's no time to panic. No time for her heart to break, no time for her to worry about the pain in her arm, or the lack of it in her head.

She feels shaky, ready to drop. But she won't drop Chloe. So she keeps going, turning random corners, thinking no further than escape, hardly thinking at all.

Maybe that's why the other Justicars corner them so easily. Max steers Chloe down a side street and suddenly there's a man in armour in front of them, another behind them announces their presence with a scrape of steel on stone.

Max freezes.

Chloe tries to stand upright, but she sways and grabs Max's shoulder. She snarls, "You'd best...get the _fuck_ out of our way."

Max doesn't know what to do. She's been helpless before, so many times, but this...this isn't her life on the line. It's Chloe's.

And Max isn't sure she can save her.

The Justicar closes in, a sap in his hand and nothing in his eyes.

Max whispers, "Chloe...run. They want me. Just...go!"

Chloe blinks down at her. "Fuck that! We're...I'm...rescuing you."

There's another scrape, much closer behind them.

Chloe snarls, a low, feral sound. Her eyes sharpen. She pushes away from Max. "One more fucking step. One more. I'll rip your fucking heart out!"

"No, Chloe. No more fighting. It's done."

I's not Max who says that. She turns to find Victoria Chase behind her, staring at her with a sneer on her lips and holding a sword in her hand. "Hello, _Max_."

There's another Justicar at her shoulder, a lean woman. Young. Impassive. Armed.

Max sighs. It sounds almost like a sob. "Lady Chase..."

Chloe groans. "Fuck...I, uh..." She falls to her knees before Max can catch her, splitting her trousers at the knees on the cobbles.

Max winces and crouches beside her, putting an arm around her.

Victoria says, "Take them. Chloe...you're still my retainer. I...everything is going to be fine. Don't worry."

And Max is done. She's done. She aches in every joint, her face hurts where Nathan hit her, her lungs feel like they're still pulling in smoke rather than clean air, and there's no way out. 

Victoria has them.

Max holds Chloe, and decides that whatever happens next, and however many or few nexts there might be, she'll be there for Chloe, to offer what comfort she can.

Except...one small part of her mind that isn't the girl Max was but is the woman she's become makes a different decision. Victoria is vulnerable, that part of her says. Max needs to figure out why. She needs to use it against her.

"Lady Chase..." Chloe croaks. "Why...?"

A hand falls on Max's shoulder, pulling at her.

Victoria says, "It...it'll all become clear, Chloe. It's...everything will be worth it. I promise. Just...rest, now."

Chloe shakes her head. "I...just don't get why you're _Lady_ Chase. It's been...bothering me." Chloe raises her head, staring up at Victoria with nothing but puzzlement in her eyes. "Your dad died. Aram's essence should've passed to you..."

Max gasps. "Gods! I'm so fucking stupid!"

Victoria stares at Max, her face paling, the mask slipping, her fear, her sheer fucking terror obvious now. "Gag her!"

In a small voice, Chloe says, "They killed my...they killed David, Vic."

Victoria freezes. "What...? Who?"

Max ducks her head, narrowly avoiding the hand that tries to close over mouth. She yells, "Her guardian!" The hand hesitates, and Victoria turns, staring at her.

Max says, more quietly, "Chloe's guardian. One of your Justicars killed him. Not ten minutes ago."

Victoria's mouth opens and closes soundlessly.

A new voice says, "She killed Johann and almost killed Niall. She's got Justicar blood on her hands."

The brunette Justicar who knifed David limps into the alley, moving quickly to Victoria's side.

The hand on Max's shoulder tightens. The tension in the air becomes thick, cloying, eager for more blood.

Max looks at Victoria, thinking, calculating, putting things together.

Too slowly, too slowly, she's failing, she's failed.

More footsteps, behind Max this time.

Victoria says, wearily, "We have to go. We'll...resolve this matter later, Courtney."

The brunette hesitates, her mouth puckered in distate, but at length she bows her head. "Of course. Zeke, bind Max. I'll deal with Chloe."

"Fuck that," Chloe snarls, lunging upright, rage almost smoking off her body. "You're dead."

Victoria says, "Stop! On your knees, Chloe!"

Chloe cries out and drops back down to her knees.

Suddenly, there's a thud behind Max and Zeke grunts. The hand that was holding Max in place is suddenly crushing her as Zeke leans on her, then past her, then sinks down onto his hands and knees, groaning all the way.

Max looks behind her, ready to run, but stops, gaping when she sees Kate Marsh, a sap in her hand and a look of determination on her pale face.

"I'm sorry," she squeaks to the fallen Zeke. "I hope that didn't hurt too badly, but...this has to end!"

Max lunges and grabs Chloe, slipping her hands under Chloe's armpits and hauling her back.

Courtney steps forward, steel in her hand.

Victoria snaps, "Chloe! Come here!"

Chloe gasps, digging in her heels against Max's efforts to move here.

Kate cries out, "Victoria! Stop!"

"She can't," Max says. "This is what's all been about, for her."

Max lets Chloe go.

Victoria says, "Chloe...bring Max to me..."

Chloe turns towards Max, gasping, sweating, the muscles in her neck straining, her fingers twitching and twisting as she tries to fight Victoria's order.

Kate screams, "NO! Victoria! I know who our true enemy is!"

The Justicars advance. Victoria's expression wavers, but she doesn't respond.

Kate snaps, "Justicars...she's the Lawspeaker! Max is the Lawspeaker! You can't hurt her!"

There's power in names and in titles. Power enough to make the woman beside Victoria hesitate, even if Victoria and Courtney don't.

There's power enough to snap Max's mind into focus, too.

Max steps forward, taking Chloe's hand. "Victoria. I'll come to you of my own free will. My oath as Lawspeaker."

Chloe gasps, sagging as her muscles loosen.

Victoria stares at Max. "Come on, then. Move."

Max shakes her head. "Tomorrow. I'll come to you tomorrow. Alone."

Courtney laughs. "You're in no position to bargain!"

Max flicks a glance at her. "No. I'm in a position to command, Justicar. I'm the Lawspeaker."

The third Justicar says, "Lady Chase...?" She looks nervous, now.

Victoria swallows. "It doesn't matter who she is. We must-"

"Tomorrow. The guard are coming. Those other killers are still on the streets. I've made my judgement and given my oath. What is your word worth... _Lady_ Chase? How true will you be to those who serve you?"

Victoria flinches. "I...Chloe is coming with us."

"No!" Kate moves up beside Chloe, brandishing her sap. "Victoria! This is wrong! You have to-"

Courtney steps forward, levelling her sword at Kate. Max quickly steps between them, leaving the point of Courtney's sword an inch from her chest.

Max never breaks eye contact with Victoria. "I'm leaving. Kate and Chloe are coming with me. But you have my oath. I'll give you what you want. Where will I meet you tomorrow?"

Courtney snarls, "One Justicar dead! Two injured that we know of! And where's Sara? With what's at stake, we can't let any of them go!"

Defiantly, Kate says, "Sara's fine! Um...except I hit her, too..."

Max thinks she hears Chloe chuckle.

Victoria sighs. "You killed Chloe's guardian...Courtney. Put up your sword. Max. There's a plaza a few streets East of the arena. Someone will be waiting beside the fountain with a statue of Kronus. Be there before noon."

Courtney doesn't budge. "You're letting them go? They'll run!"

Victoria says, "Max won't. She swore an oath. And she's too proud and stubborn to run. Besides, if she doesn't come to us...Chloe, you'll bring her to me."

Chloe hisses out a breath. "Fuck you, Victoria. Fuck you and your fucking Justicars and your oaths and all your rotten, worthless shit. I'll never betray Max."

Max doesn't dare look back. She doesn't dare let herself feel anything. She keeps her eyes locked on Victoria's and says, "No. Chloe won't betray me. She won't have to."

Victoria nods, stiffly. "Courtney. Let them go. Chloe...I'm...take care of yourself. That's a fucking order, too."

She turns away and stalks off into the darkness, sheathing her sword.

Courtney spits at Max's feet. "There was no need for blood. It's on you, coward. And every minute you delay-"

Max nods wearily. "I understand what's at stake."

Courtney bristles, but the other Justicar puts her hand on Courtney's shoulder. "We need to see to Zeke."

Max glances back. Chloe is leaning on Kate, who is still clutching her sap in one shaking hand.

Max nods at them. They back away, stepping carefully around Zeke, and retreat into the dark streets together.

* * *

Max watches Kate support Chloe and fuss over her as they stumble through back streets and alleyways, going down, towards the docks, keeping away from light and the sounds of raised voices and pounding boots.

Max waits until some time has passed, until Kate and Chloe both seem calmer, until they've taken shelter in a doorway in a grimy lane, before she makes things worse again. 

"Chloe...we need somewhere to lay low. We need Rachel."

They both stare at her.

Kate says, "Max...Chloe and Rachel are..."

"Finished," Chloe says, wearily. She rubs her face with her free hand, her other arm still draped over Kate's shoulders. "Rachel won't help us. I...kinda threatened to kill her if I saw her again, so..."

Chloe trails off, her eyes dimming.

Kate says, "Max...we could...we could hide in David's place. For the night. While we figure out our next move. Victoria doesn't know where it is."

Chloe slowly shakes her head. "We should get out. Just...steal a fucking boat. Something. Get out and never look back."

Max meets Kate's worried eyes. "We can't. You're oathbound to Victoria, for one thing. And for another...there's too much at stake."

Kate bites her lip. "I don't understand what Victoria's doing, but...Max...you won't give yourself to her? Right?"

Chloe snorts. "Of course she fucking won't!"

"No," Max lies. "I won't. I...have a plan. Part of a plan. But I need information. I need time. And I need resources we don't have. And we all need rest. So...we need-"

"Rachel _fucking_ Amber," Chloe snarls.

Max nods. Her voice cracks when she says, "I'm...sorry Chloe. Believe me."

Chloe nods wearily, but Kate stares at Max, a question in her eyes. One Max does not intend to answer.

"Where can we find her?"

Chloe groans. "I hope we're feeling rested! We're going back uphill."

* * *

It's a twenty minute walk to Rachel's house. It takes them closer to an hour to make it.

For one thing, they're all dishevelled, if not covered in bruises, blood and ash. They smell of smoke. They reek of the kind of questions they can't afford to be asked.

Rachel lives in a detached house in a decent neighbourhood. Not too wealthy, not too poor. Avoiding watchful eyes is difficult, even when there's no one on the street, but they do the best they can to make themselves presentable and keep to the shadows.

Chloe sinks deeper into herself the closer they get. By the time they reach Rachel's front door, she's sullen and silent. She's walking more easily, but Kate stays by her side, supporting her. 

Chloe keeps her arm around Kate's shoulders, too.

Max isn't sure how she feels about that, except she isn't feeling how she thinks she should feel.

She gives up on that thought, letting it be consumed by the dozen others swirling through her mind. She knocks on Rachel's door.

It opens less than a second after her knuckles leave the painted wooden surface.

Rachel Amber smiles at them. In spite of the troubles of recent days, she hasn't gotten any less beautiful. Her hair is perfectly brushed, her makeup looks recently applied, and she's wearing a blue dress that is as simple in style as it is flattering to her figure. Her legs and feet are bare.

She smells like vanilla. It's the same scent she wore the first time they met.

Max swallows. She can feel Chloe's anger boiling under her skin. She can feel a different kind of heat in the look Rachel gives her.

Max says, "Hi, Rachel. We need-"

Rachel says, "Of course. Tea's brewing. Come in."

* * *

The four of them sit at a table in Rachel's kitchen. 

Rachel lets them seat themselves while she busies herself with the teapot. Chloe and Kate sit on one side of the table. Max gratefully sinks into a seat on the other side. Her joints ache, her feet are swollen, her face hurts where Nathan hit her, her arm is bruised and tender, and she's exhausted.

The fire is blazing, there are three cups on the table, as well as bread, cheese, and slices of cold chicken. There's a bottle of ale for Chloe.

She doesn't touch it.

Rachel finishes pouring tea for Kate, hesitates at the sight of Chloe's barely concealed anger, before pursing her lips and moving away. She deposits the teapot, limps around the table and sits, casually moving her chair closer to Max's.

Max tenses when Rachel touches her knee to Max's. She's too tired to flinch away, and...Rachel's warm. Max relaxes and leaves her knee where it is.

Rachel smiles warmly at her. "You all look terrible. I take it things did not go as planned at Blackwell?"

Chloe snaps, "David's dead. And whose plan was it to put Max in Blackwell again?"

Rachel's smile dies, her eyes widening in shock.

Quietly, Max says, "It was my plan, Chloe. I wanted to get into Blackwell. David died because of me. And I'm more sorry than I can say."

Chloe whips her head round and glares at Max. Unshed tears glimmer in the firelight. "Was it worth it, Max?"

Max sighs. "No. But...I promise it won't be in vain."

Rachel clears her throat. "That's a very big promise, Max."

Chloe says, "Yeah. Well, I believe it when _she_ makes one."

There's a moment of silence, just long enough for guilt to bubble up inside Max and threaten to undo her. 

Kate says, "I...I'm sorry about David. But...I don't think it's Rachel or Max's fault. Blaming them isn't going to help."

Chloe groans. "Fuck. I'm...fuck! Sorry," she mutters, shooting Max a pleading look.

Max reaches across the table and grabs her hand. "Don't. Don't apologise. I...we're okay."

It's not a question, but...

Chloe squeezes her hand. "Always," she says, knowing Max needs an answer.

Max sits back and cradles her tea in both hands.

Kate watches her, biting her lip.

Max sips some tea. It's flavoured with vanilla. Max almost smiles, in spite of everything. She glances at Rachel, who does smile.

Playfully she asks, "Enjoying your tea, Max?"

She presses her knee harder against Max's.

Max quickly looks away, avoiding everybody else's gaze. "Uh. So. Ah...what's on your mind, Kate?"

Kate sighs. "Victoria...why did she turn on us?"

Chloe laughs bitterly. "Why the fuck did we even trust her in the first place?"

Kate flushes. "I...believed in our mission. I still do, Chloe."

"So does Victoria," Max says softly. "She wants to restore the monarchy more than anyone."

Chloe raises her head. "What have you figured out, Max?"

"Not me. You."

Chloe blinks. "Uh...what did I figure out, then?"

"That Victoria shouldn't be Lady Chase, she should be Duchess. When her father died, he should have passed Aram's essence to her, through their shared bloodline. But that's not what happened. Victoria's _mother_ claimed the title."

Rachel makes a small sound beside her.

Kate frowns. "I don't understand."

Max says, "The ritual of transference. They used it to ensure that Victoria didn't receive her father's essence, her mother did. So that Victoria could be a vessel for Kronus' essence. She's never going to be Duchess Chase. She's going to be Elysium's new queen."

Kate's eyes widen. "What? But...she can't! She..." Kate pauses. "She...she said she was supposed to fix everything. That's what she meant. She really believes she's going to be queen."

Chloe slams her hand on the table. "Like fuck! I knew there was something off about her story! That crooked, lying...she's not getting away with this!"

Max waits a second. Chloe subsides, glancing at Kate, who almost certainly has her hand on Chloe's knee.

"Chloe. Victoria...is doing what she believes is best for Elysium. There are...worse options than her becoming queen."

Rachel is watching her. Studying her. And Max has to be careful here.

Max lowers her eyes and sips some tea. "And we have bigger issues to worry about." Chloe stirs angrily. Max quickly says, "Like the sorcerer."

Chloe narrows her eyes. "You are not going to Victoria tomorrow. If you have to tie me to a bed so I don't drag you to her, tie me to a fucking bed. She does not get you. And she does not get Kronus' essence. Fuck all that."

Max sips her tea. Kronus' essence stirs inside her, but it's little more than a faint pressure in her head. Max's lips turn down. Another oddity, another thing she doesn't have time to think about.

Softly, Kate says, "Chloe...I know that Victoria has deceived us all, but...she isn't our enemy. And I believe she means well..."

Chloe scoffs.

Kate meets Max's eye and adds, in a firmer voice. "But I agree. Victoria doesn't get Max. And it's too dangerous to try the ritual before we deal with the sorcerer. Even though the danger..." Kate suddenly stops, flushing. "Uh, I mean-"

As evenly as she can, Max says, "Dealing with the sorcerer is our priority. It has to be. I'm still...putting the pieces together, but we have Hella's warning. The world is at stake. So. Kate. What have _you_ figured out?"

Kate sucks in a breath when all eyes turn to her. "Um. Well. I...I thought that...but..."

"Kate." Chloe smiles at her. "Even if it's just a theory, it's more than any of us have. Talk to us."

Kate relaxes, smiling shyly at Chloe. This time, Max smiles too.

Kate takes another breath and says, "I saw a piece of cloth, with a label. A tailor's mark. From one of the men who attacked Blackwell. They attacked us, too." Kate pauses, chewing her lip. "Chloe...Victoria saved me. She risked her life for me. Whatever else she is...she's not...selfish."

Chloe frowns. "Yeah, well...she still used us."

Max clears her throat. "The label?"

Kate starts. "Oh! Right. It was an expensive cloak, but...the people wearing them didn't seem wealthy. And their clothes, when you look at them, they're good quality, but old and patched. So...I thought that...they might be donations. To the temple. And that..."

It's Rachel who finishes the thought. "Someone in the church is arming the poor. Building their own gang...or...cult, maybe. The sorcerer _is_ a priest."

Kate shakes her head. "There were so many of them...dozens, maybe a hundred? On that scale, giving so much in clothing, food..."

"Weapons," Chloe says. "They were old. Probably confiscated and retired Ducal Guard stock. But freshly honed and cared for. That takes money. And influence. And it means there are probably a few veterans in their...cult. But most of them were poorly trained. Just...people. Believers, I guess. In...what, though?"

Max has an idea, but it's not certain. Not yet. She keeps quiet, watching Kate.

Kate says, "I think you're right. About money and influence. And organisation. I don't think it's just any priest...I think it has to be..."

She hesitates.

Max says, "Jefferson. He was at Blackwell this morning. And he guessed I wasn't who I claimed to be. I couldn't figure out his angle, but I knew he was dangerous. It adds up. As High Priest, he'd know about the rituals to access the Void. He'd be able to use church resources to build his private army. He could get close to Nathan, and influence him. He'd know about Kronus' essence, too. And he could put pressure on Duke Prescott, and convince him to help -- or at least, not to hinder -- his efforts."

Chloe gapes at her. " _Jefferson_? But...I mean... _that_ guy?"

Kate sighs. "I don't understand it, but I think so, too. It has to be him. Although...I didn't see any sign of Avaradun's corruption on him. I didn't see anything unusual at all. But..."

Chloe runs her hand through her hair, stifling a yawn. "Uh, well, Hella did say the sorcerer could mask themselves from the Gods...so, don't feel too bad, Kate."

Rachel puts down her teacup. "What could Jefferson have on Duke Prescott? Didn't he almost kill him in the storm? Why would the Duke conspire with him?"

Max nods at her. "Two reasons. Blackmail and a bribe."

"Making us guess? I do like a challenge, Max!" Rachel smirks. She props her chin on her hand and studies Max intently. "Hmm. Bribe's obvious. A crown. Blackmail...oh! No! Really?"

Max is too busy being stared at by Rachel to realise that Chloe is glaring at them until Chloe snaps, "Hey! Maybe spell it out for the rest of us? While backing the fuck off of Max?"

Max blinks. She quickly looks down at her teacup.

Rachel flushes, turning angrily on Chloe. But she stops, sighs, and says, "The sorcerer...Jefferson. He created a power vacuum by removing King Gregory. He had to know that war was coming. And he had to have a plan for that. So he could offer his foresight and his powers to help Sean come out on top of the civil war."

Max adds, "And the Duke went along with it because Jefferson had leverage in the form of-"

Rachel nods at Max. "Nathan. His apprentice. If Sean tried to turn on Jefferson, to take him out...well, even if he did want to risk the wrath of a powerful sorcerer, he'd be exposing Nathan, too."

Chloe glances at Kate. "It didn't seem like he loved Nathan, exactly..."

Max shrugs. "Maybe he does. Maybe he doesn't. But he loves the Prescott name. He loves the idea of his legacy. And he loves power. That's more than enough for Jefferson to work with."

Kate says, "Victoria told me there had been other attempts to find the sorcerer. They'd failed, and the Ducal Guard...hushed it up. On the Duke's orders..."

Max smiles grimly. "Jefferson got Duke Prescott into a position where defending Jefferson meant defending himself and Nathan. Of course he covered it up. He couldn't be quite so direct with Victoria, though, not when she was supposed to be the foundation of an alliance that could put him on the throne."

Chloe rubs her face. "Gods! So...it's Jefferson. But...what does he get out of all this...chaos? How does this destroy the fucking world?"

Max considers the situation, and what she has to do. She purses her lips. Lies. "I'm not sure. But that's why I need time to do some research on what I took from Blackwell. And we need to figure out how we're going to bring Jefferson down. Which means we'll need to find a way to neutralise the Duke."

Rachel stares at her. "Uh...Max. That's...how would you do that, exactly?"

Chloe laughs. "What? Not up for it, Rachel? I'm shocked."

Rachel's jaw works. "Chloe...I know you're angry with me. But maybe you could-"

"Go to bed," Max says. "All of us should. Sunup's not that far off. We have an idea of what we're up against, at last. We can make a plan when we're fresh."

Max stares at each of them in turn. They all look away.

Rachel clears her throat. "You're all welcome to stay. Help yourself to food, drink. I have spare clothes. Chloe...you know where the guest rooms are."

Chloe sucks in a breath and sighs it out. "Right. Yeah. I'm beat. Sleep sounds like a plan. Before we make the big plan. Coming, Max?"

Max thinks that Chloe is the only one who doesn't see Kate's face pale at that.

Max shakes her head. "Not tired." She hauls her bag up and dumps it on the table. "And I have work to do. You go on, though."

Chloe hesitates. "What about...Victoria's commands...?"

Rachel narrows her eyes. "She commanded you to take Max?"

She says it sharply, possessively. She presses her knee against Max's again.

Max is surprised to find herself blushing.

Max says, "Uh...we'll figure it out in the morning. We'll have some time to work around it. Maybe go to the plaza she talked about, and see if we can have a parley? Tell her about Jefferson. Work something out."

Chloe frowns. "I don't...fuck. I don't trust her. Or those fucking Justicar creeps."

Kate hides a yawn behind her hand. "I know, but...if we tell Victoria the truth. She'll listen to reason. She has to!"

"Either way," Max says, "you both need sleep. Go. We'll sort everything out in the morning."

Chloe glares at Rachel. "Coming?"

Rachel shakes her head. "I'm on a cot downstairs, because of my leg. I'll make sure Max has what she needs and then I'll leave her in peace. I promise."

Chloe grunts and levers herself upright. "Your promise isn't worth shit. Don't fuck with Max, Rachel. I'll-"

"Kill me?" 

Chloe freezes, shrinks, ages. "No. Not...no."

She turns and walks away. She pauses at the kitchen door. "Max? One hour, then you get some sleep, too. Night."

She leaves. Kate lingers.

Max says, "Kate? Thank you for everything you did tonight. I really should have said that sooner."

Kate smiles. "I...that's okay. And I agree with Chloe. One hour. Okay?" She glances nervously at Rachel. "You need to rest, Max."

"Okay. Now go find Chloe." Max takes a breath. "She's going to...I mean, she needs you. Don't...let her be alone."

Kate's brow furrows. "Max..." She glances at Rachel again. "She needs you, too! So rest!"

"I will soon," Max promises.

And then it's just Rachel left.

She smiles at Max. "So! That was neatly done. The question is, how are you planning on getting rid of me?"

* * *

Getting rid of Rachel is easy enough for a short while. Max just asks her to arrange a few things for her: a change of clothes, a courier for a letter, a carriage for the morning.

She only really needs the clothes, and space to finalise her plans.

While Rachel's gone, Max drinks the last of the tea and skims through Wells' journals, occasionally pausing to read a passage more closely. She consults her notes from Blackwell, and mulls over what she knows and what she can safely guess. 

She makes notes in the margins of the journal. Careful notes in a careful hand.

She's finished and lost in thought when Rachel limps back into the kitchen, a pile of clothes in her arms. "Here we are. All mine. They're close enough to the right size, I think."

Max smiles. "Thanks, Rachel."

Rachel places the clothes on a corner of the table. She clears away Kate and Chloe's dishes. She heaps some food on a plate, places it beside Max's papers, then clears away the other things. She adds fresh water to the kettle and hangs it over the fire. She cleans out the teapot and adds fresh tea leaves to it.

Max knows she should be eating, or thinking, or reading more of Wells' secrets, but she finds she can't muster any urgency. She watches Rachel instead.

Without turning to face Max, Rachel says, "It'd be incredibly rude if you weren't staring at me, Max."

Max smiles. "I am," she admits. 

Rachel glances over her shoulder, eyebrow raised in challenge. "Rude? Or staring?"

Max meets her eyes. "Definitely both."

Rachel grins. "Good."

She returns to cleaning the dirty dishes. "So...why aren't you telling Kate and Chloe all the things you aren't telling them?"

Max sighs. "I'm too tired to be clever right now, Rachel."

Rachel stops and faces her. "You're too clever to be anything else, Max. But I _suppose_ we could try simple honesty?"

Max wrinkles her nose. "That's not really what our relationship's built on, is it?"

"Hmm. Our relationship? I like the sound of that. But honesty is as essential to a healthy relationship as dishonesty is. We'll start small, don't worry." 

Rachel limps towards Max. Her uneven gait does nothing to detract from her presence. Max blinks and Rachel is in front of her, very close. Max swallows, and Rachel's fingers are brushing across her cheek, very gently. "The bruises are new. Not a good look."

"Presents from Nathan Prescott."

"I'll have to find a way to repay him for his courtesy. Your arm, too?"

Max looks down. There's a large, black, ugly bruise across what little meat there is on her forearm. "No...that was..." Max considers. "I...think that was a Justicar's sap."

Max can feel the edge of something there. An implication, if not an idea. There's a faint pressure in her head, not enough to chase the thought away, but rather just enough to sharpen that edge, to cut through the fog Max can feel growing around her and she feels her heart slow in excitement as it begins to take shape and...

"Max!"

Max blinks. Rachel's kneeling beside her, shaking her. "Uh. Yeah. I...sorry, I...drifted off."

Rachel hisses out a breath. "Like fuck, to borrow a phrase. You didn't nod off. I think you stopped breathing." Rachel glares at her. "Okay, let's try some more more complex honesty. Right now. What's happening to you, Max?"

Max smiles weakly. "Oh, just the inevitable. But not for a little while yet. Don't worry."

"Clever," Rachel says, sourly. She pushes herself upright, wincing. "Alright, Max. I'll play your game. You're...ill. And the most likely cause is that you're carrying Kronus' essence, something you weren't meant to have. Does Chloe know? No, of course she doesn't. But Kate does. That's what she kept tripping up over earlier. But that's not all, is it?"

"No...that's not all." Max frowns, thinking things through. "I know what the sorcerer...what Jefferson is doing."

"Okay...and what is that, exactly?"

Max tugs at her lip. "It's...sort of hard to explain."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Max. Put your hands in your lap. Look at me."

Max hesitates, confused, but she ultimately shrugs and does as Rachel asks.

"Good. First of all..." Rachel leans down and kisses her on the lips.

Rachel tastes like vanilla and she tastes like Rachel. Her lips are full and soft and her breath warms Max, right down to her core. Max loses herself in another daze, but this time, she's aware of every sensation, of every movement of Rachel's, of the way one hand tilts up Max's chin to create a better angle while another tangles itself in Max's short hair.

Time ends all things. Max isn't sure how much it takes to end their kiss, or if it counts as one kiss, or a dozen, but it ends when Rachel pulls away. Her cheeks are flushed and she's breathing almost as heavily as Max is.

Rachel smiles, bold, brilliant, proud. "That...was overdue. Second: you don't trust me, Max."

Max shakes her head. "I...uh...wow! I don't-"

"Chloe told you about me, didn't she? How I lied to her? And you don't trust me. And you're probably...no, you _are_ right not to. But I want to help you. I want you to come out the other side of this. Trust _that_ , if nothing else."

Max takes a moment to remember how to breathe. She looks at the books on the table, then back to Rachel. "Uh...so...these are Wells' journals. I'm giving them to you."

Rachel pales. "That's...that's cruel, Max. I don't want...is that supposed to be a fucking _payment_?"

Max, terrified to reach out, more terrified of hesitating, reaches out and touches Rachel's bare knee. "No. No! I...wouldn't trust them with anyone else, Rachel. I _need_ you to have them!"

Rachel sighs. "Oh, Max..." She smiles a blurry smile. "How much longer do I have you?"

Max tries to move her hand away, but Rachel quickly catches it and presses it against her skin. "Until...not long."

Rachel tilts her head. "You're leaving Chloe here."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Max closes her eyes. "What happens to essence when someone dies?"

Rachel's quiet for a moment. "It...passes on. To an heir."

"What if there isn't an heir in the bloodline?"

"I...don't...no. Wait. It...returns to where it came from? I think..."

"Where does essence come from?"

Rachel snorts. "Aren't these supposed to get harder to answer? To the Gods!"

Max swallows. "Where do the Gods come from?"

There's silence for long enough that Max has to open her eyes, just to make sure that she hasn't drifted again.

Rachel's staring at her, troubled. "Haven't they always...?"

Max shakes her head. "No. There used to be one God. Just one. And that God desired to know Itself. And in trying to understand each part of Itself, what made It...alive, It gave birth to Kronus. And with the perspective that granted It, It gave birth to more Gods. And all the parts of the God that couldn't find their way to understanding, that couldn't find a purpose, a shape...they became the demons. So the story goes."

"Which...story? I haven't heard that story..."

"No. But I think Jefferson has. Rachel, the Gods created our world. They created us. And then they granted us their essence, and things changed...and They went away."

Rachel shivers. "Max...what are you saying?"

Max smiles wearily. "That I know too much. And I'm not clever. I'm stupid. Or I would have seen it sooner. Essence is in everything. And when a _thing_ is destroyed, when someone...dies, the essence longs to return to where it came from. It didn't start with the Gods. It started with _a_ God. A God who existed before there was anything else. Jefferson thinks it'll end the same way. I think he's right." 

Rachel stares at her. "What...but how does that..." Her eyes widen. "Aram grant us mercy!"

Max nods. "Exactly. A war. A war in Elysium, with Northern clan and even Mermedonians, too? Think of the lives lost, think of the flow of essence...think of what a sorcerer could do, who could use their power to shape that, guide that flow, turn it into a weapon, turn their own essence against the Gods themselves..."

"But...why? And why are you telling _me_ and not the others?"

Max sighs. "Why is Jefferson doing this? Who knows? And..." Max tugs gently at Rachel's leg. "Kiss me."

Rachel kisses her, less sweetly and more urgently than before. Max kisses back greedily, hungry for every last taste of Rachel she can get.

She knows, when they part again, that she won't get another taste.

Rachel studies her. "You're not going to tell me anything else."

Max smiles, shaking her head. "Not tonight. In the morning."

Rachel closes her eyes, wincing. Her expression is bright when she opens them again. "Alright! So...it's been more than an hour. Bed time. Join me?"

Max's breath catches in her throat. Maybe because her heart is lodged in it, too. "C-can I, uh...is there somewhere I can wash up?"

Rachel smiles. She brushes her hand through Max's hair. "Of course. I'll show you."

She takes Max to a bathroom, and brings her hot water and a towel and the pile of clothes. 

She leaves her there, saying: "I'm in the room across the hall. Take your time. I'll be waiting."

Max washes and dresses. She very quietly tiptoes out of the bathroom. She takes her bag from the now empty kitchen, steals one of Rachel's cloaks from the peg by the door and, before guilt and weakness can stop her, she throws the hood over her head and steals out into the night.

* * *

Max doesn't see any of Rachel's watchers, but it's obvious that they're out there. Rachel was ready for them, after all. She had to have had a fair amount of time to prepare everything for their arrival.

But she's almost Rachel's height, she's wearing Rachel's clothes and cloak, and she adopts a slight limp as she leaves Rachel's house.

It's neither late nor early, but both. Time is almost meaningless in the darkness Max walks into.

Almost.

Max has so little time before her appointment with Victoria, and she has things to do, but...she's not _that_ far from the docks. She decides to walk, rather than trying to find a carriage.

She sees a few other people on the streets, but no one bothers her. She doesn't think as she walks, she simply lets her mind drift. She thinks that the time for thinking is done. Now is the time for action. Soon enough, it will be the time for an ending.

Kronus' essence throbs dully inside her, still sluggish, muted. Max pauses, touches the bruise on her arm, and catches another edge of that thought again.

She lets it go before she can get a grip on it. "No...our time is nearly done, Kronus. It's been a painful, horrible burden and I won't miss you at all. But I'll save you, Kronus. I'll save you."

Kronus' essence throbs again, but if it's an answer, it's not one that Max understands.

After that is silence, walking through the gathering tension of a city almost ready to wake, thinking of nothing, and gathering her strength for the confrontations ahead.

* * *

She stops outside the door of Snorri's inn. She allows herself a minute to think about Chloe, and about Rachel's lips. Then she pushes everything out of her mind except for the thing she needs most for this meeting.

Every ounce of sheer fucking anger she feels towards everything that's happened these last five years.

Max nods to herself. She thrusts out her jaw. She makes fists of her hands. She strides into the inn.

Ingolf, one of Snorri's warriors, sees her first. "Nessa! Where have you..."

He trails off when she locks eyes with him. He backs up a step. "I...will see if Snorri's available?"

Max shakes her head. "Answer this question first, Ingolf son of Flosi. Who am I?"

Ingolf pales. Max almost feels sorry for him.

"You...you are Nessa, Snorri's-"

"No. I'm not Snorri's anything. Tell the chieftain that I'm here in my official capacity. There is business to discuss which affects the clans. I'll wait for him in the taproom. Do you understand?"

He nods. "Yes...I'll tell him."

Ingolf is over six feet tall and carries the scars of several battles and countless raids.

He all but runs from her.

Max winces. She might have overdone it a bit. Snorri's going to be furious, rather than just angry. But there's no changing course now.

She finds Bersi alone in the taproom, pushing his breakfast around his plate.

He leaps up when he sees her. "Nessa! You're alright!"

He hugs her, earnest and clumsy. For a moment, she lets herself be hugged. Then she steels herself, and pulls away.

"Bersi. It's good to see you." She raises her hand when he opens his mouth. "No time, Bersi. I need to see the chieftain."

He bites down on his questions. He says, "I'll take you to him!"

"No. He'll come to me."

Bersi's eyes widen. "Oh. Are you sure that's wise?"

"I'm sure it's time. Wisdom will have to wait on necessity."

"What's happened, Nessa? You seem...different."

He's still so young, somehow, though there's only a few years between them. Max finds that strangely encouraging.

"Bersi, my name is Maxine Caulfield. You can call me Max."

"Well. Some honesty at last, _Max_?"

She turns and watches Snorri walk into the room, Helgi limping at his shoulder.

Max inclines her head. "Good day, chieftain. _You_ will call me Lawspeaker."

Snorri stands stock still. Helgi looks at her with a mix of pride and anxiety on his face. Max can hear Bersi stifling a nervous giggle behind her.

And she knows that there are others. Snorri's men, those still present, are just outside, listening. Ingolf will have fetched them after he gave Snorri her message.

Max is...almost entirely sure.

Snorri says, quietly, "Out. Both of you. I will speak to...Max alone."

Helgi hesitates. "Father...she is my sister. I will not leave her."

Max sighs. Helgi. The _idiot_.

Snorri growls, "She is an Elysian. She is a liar. She is unworthy of any title save _thrall_. Because that is what she is. My _slave_."

Max says, "Is Ref a liar, chieftain?"

Snorri's lip twitches. They both know that Ref is indeed a liar. But his lies are mostly told in the course of his duties. And to call the Lawspeaker a liar in front of witnesses is the sort of insult that can break a man of the Northern clans.

Snorri says, "You dishonour the Lawspeaker when you address him with such familiarity, slave."

Helgi says, "Enough! You do not decide who the Lawspeaker is! _You_ are the one who is behaving dis-"

"Helgi, stop!"

Snorri twists round and cuffs Helgi across the mouth. Helgi staggers. He roars in anger and lunges at Snorri. Snorri punches him in the chest, precisely where the Mermedonian's spear pierced him. Helgi gasps in pain and drops to his knees, the colour draining from his face like cheap dye in heavy rain.

"This is why I told you to wait outside. You are too...emotional when it comes to the slave."

Max says, "Bersi, see to Helgi. Chieftain, stand aside."

He chuckles. "You cannot order me, girl. I thought you more capable than this...crude attempt at manipulation."

Bersi edges forward, uncertain. "Father, please. Helgi needs help."

Helgi does need help. He's gasping for air and blood is soaking into his shirt.

Snorri frowns at him. "Hmph. See to him, Bersi. And see you both remember this lesson."

Bersi hastens to his brother's side. He helps Helgi onto a chair before turning to the task of checking his dressing.

Max says, "They will remember today, Snorri. They all will."

He turns to her. His eyes blaze, but his tone is icy. "I have a mind to whip you, girl."

"I have a mind to break you, old man."

Snorri touches the hilt of his knife. He smiles. "I think not...Max. I think you have reached the end of your use to me."

"I'm not yours to use, Snorri. I am the Lawspeaker. I serve everyone."

"No, you are Ref's twisted joke." He walks towards slowly. "You are a tool in my hand or a thorn in my side. Those are the only options open to you."

"Snorri. I will give you one chance. Confer on me the authority of the clans to negotiate with Duke Prescott. Do that, and nothing more will be said on the insults you have offered me."

He stops. He stares at her, incredulous. "What happened, Max? What put this madness in you? You were always so careful before this."

Max begins to pace deliberately towards Snorri.

"What happened? A demon was brought through the Seal, Snorri. Avaradun Wind Dancer. What happened? I learned that a sorcerer is behind Elysium's troubles, a sorcerer who wants a war. Who wants the clans dragged into that war. Because they seek to unmake us all. I learned the true stakes in this conflict. I learned that the Laws have been broken. I learned where I am most needed. Right here. Right now."

Max stops two paces from Snorri. He watches her, wary, uncertain, angry.

Max softens her voice. "What happened to _you_ , Snorri? When did the cleverest chieftain in the Northlands put his pride ahead of his people? When did you become so...blind?"

Helgi rasps, "Max! Step back. Father, don't hurt her. _Please_."

Snorri's knife stays in its sheathe. Max stays where she is.

They stare at each other, watchful for any movement, any hint of weakness.

"A demon? _That_ is what caused the disturbance the other day?"

"Will you make me repeat myself? I have much to do today, Snorri. Try not to slow me down."

He slowly smiles. "You are bold today, little one."

Max lowers her voice so that only he can hear her. "That's because you are _fucked_ , Snorri. You can kill me, but you'll destroy yourself in the process. Ref told me he’d proclaim me as his successor the day after we left. News might not have reached Arcadia yet, but I bet the clans know who the Lawspeaker is. And you know what happens if you kill the Lawspeaker. Are you ready for your entire line to be banished?"

"You lie. Ref would never..."

He trails off as he begins to think about what Ref is capable of doing.

Max hopes none of the relief she feels is obvious. She was wondering if Snorri had left his brain in his bed.

She watches him make rapid calculations. She rolls her eyes when his light up. "No, idiot. You can't make a deal with the Duke and use it to justify your actions. Partly because Ref will see through you faster than I did, but mostly because things are moving very quickly now, Snorri. Duke Prescott is going to lose if it comes to war, and…put bluntly, I know more than you and I don't have time to waste instructing you."

"Push me any further, child, and I will-"

"Attack me as bravely as you did your wounded son?"

The knife clears its sheathe. Max steps forward.

Snorri's shaking with rage, barely able to stop himself from striking. He isn't a tall man, but he towers over Max. "You have one chance to save your life, thrall. You will tell me everything you've learned, now!"

Max raises her voice, just enough. "Well, I've learned where you stand. And I've learned where _they_ stand. That should be enough for the time being."

Snorri turns. Behind him are half a dozen of his men. All armed. All quietly watching. All of them unhappy.

Snorri says, "This...thrall is-"

Ingolf steps forward. "Chieftain. This woman is our Lawspeaker. Sheathe your knife. Please."

Bersi joins him. Helgi does, too, though the effort costs him.

One by one the other warriors form a semicircle around Snorri.

Bersi says, "Father. This is madness. Put down your knife."

Snorri turns back to her. He says, quietly. "They won't kill me. I could still cut your throat."

Max lifts her chin higher. She keeps her own voice just above a whisper. "Chieftain. You lost the second you let me goad you into meeting in the open. Let's put an end to this now."

He stares at her, and for a moment, sheer, mad fury fills his eyes. He closes them. He says, quietly, “What…do you intend to do with the power to negotiate with the Duke?”

Max says, “Write one letter. Then give it back to you. I have other things to do after that." Max sighs. Softly, she says, "Including die, if that makes this easier for you Snorri."

There's a gasp from the assembled men, then every one of them is yelling, asking questions, making pointless vows.

Snorri says nothing. He watches her carefully. Max rolls her eyes at him.

Something like a smile flickers across his lips. He takes a deep breath. "WARRIORS! Give us the room. I will discuss matters with the...Lawspeaker. Wait in the parlour. I think that...we will have need of you before long."

They hesitate.

Max inclines her head.

They go.

Snorri sighs. "Well...drink?"

Max rubs her brow. "Probably not."

Snorri grunts and walks behind the bar, where he pours himself a mug of ale. "So...what do you intend for my people, Max?"

Max leans on the bar across from him, very much aware that he's holding his ale in his left hand, and that he still has his knife, and that he's right-handed. "I intend to save them, chieftain. I tell you this in truth: war in Elysium now will destroy us all. Sorcerers have been disrupting the Laws here for years. And..." Max sighs. "I wouldn't believe any of it if I wasn't living it, Snorri."

Snorri sips some ale. "The demon that destroyed the tavern...what happened to it?"

Max shivers, tremors running through her body at the lightest hint of the memory of Avaradun. "It...violated the terms of its contract and was sent back to the Void."

Snorri snorts. "I thought we were being honest, now. What happened to it?"

Max meets his cold gaze with one of her own. "I did."

Snorri throws back his head and barks out a laugh. "I believe you. What is to be done?"

Max blinks. "Uh...that was...quick."

He narrows his eyes. "You said there was no time to waste. Was that merely an insult designed to goad me, or...?"

"Right. Okay." Max hesitates. "Can I...?" She plucks the mug from his hand and takes a long swallow of the bitter liquid. She grimaces, passing the mug back. "Ugh! That's disgusting."

Snorri shrugs, downing another mouthful. "Mead is better. But it is good enough."

"I...need leverage on Duke Prescott. He's supporting the sorcerer, because the sorcerer has his son ensnared. So...if I can bring the right kind of pressure to bear on him, he might turn on the sorcerer. Or at least, not stand in the way of someone who wants to take the sorcerer out. I'm going to tell him that the Northern clans are putting their weight behind Duchess Chase. _If_ he keeps supporting the sorcerer."

Snorri mulls that. "You know who this sorcerer is? Where they are?"

"Yes. And I think so. But...I'm not going to tell you. I don't want the Northern clans dragged into a feud with the Ducal families. Diplomatic pressure is one thing, but vengeance..."

Snorri frowns. "This sorcerer...you think they will be the one to kill you? No...wait, you did not say the Prescott family...who else is involved?"

Max smiles wearily. "You're thinking. Good. But, no, I'm going to die because Elyisum's ruler is coming back. I can't explain it all, but...I'm going to help make that happen. And it's going to kill me. And there can be no vengeance for this, Snorri."

Snorri lets out a low growl. "I dislike you. It disgusts me that you could be our Lawspeaker. But...you are. There will be vengeance on those who try to harm you. It is my duty."

"It's your duty to avenge those of the Northern clans. I'm not." Max shrugs. "And, chieftain, I...request that you do not pursue this matter. It is what is best for Elysium and the clans."

Snorri drains the last of his ale. "What do we stand to gain, Max? You will use our power to force the Duke's hand. You will try to make peace in Elyisum, and we will lose an opportunity to make a deal for our people. You will die. What do the Northern clans stand to gain in any of this?"

"Well, survival, for a start. But..." Max roots through her bag. "There's also this."

Max places a document on the bar. 

Snorri raises an eyebrow and picks it up, reading through it. His face pales and his jaw drops as he does. "This is...real?"

Max nods. "Yeah. There's going to be a Duchess who will be...open to negotiation. She isn't going to like it, Snorri, and she might be...angry about a lot of things. But...with the right approach...don't you think the Northern clans stand to gain?"

Snorri shakes his head slowly. "This is...is your death certain?"

Max swallows. "I mean, there's a chance I might...survive. It's...pretty small, Snorri. You're likely going to be rid of me by this afternoon."

Snorri frowns. "Pity. You are...valuable."

Max snorts. "Thanks. Um...you'll...tell Ref...?"

Snorri shakes his head. "Write your letter to the Duke. I will personally deliver it, as well as any argument you care to...instruct me in as you write. There will be time to write a note to Ref. You owe him that much."

Max bows her head. "Y-yeah. I owe him more. And I need to write another letter for my friend, Chloe, too. I'll need you to deliver that to her. And...she might need some help. From some...anonymous warriors." 

Snorri smiles grimly. "She's your weapon against the sorcerer?"

Max stares at him. "She's the person I love most in the world."

Snorri raises his eyebrows. "Why...tell me that?"

"A mark of respect. And a warning. Don't think me being dead will prevent my vengeance reaching you if Chloe comes to harm."

Snorri purses his lips. "I...do not doubt you, Lawspeaker."

Max nods. "Alright. Let's get to work."

It takes less than an hour to write her letters, give Snorri instructions and advice, and say her goodbyes.

After that, Max takes her last carriage ride.

* * *

Courtney's waiting for her by the fountain. None of the other Justicars are in sight. That could mean a number of things, but...Max simply doesn't care enough to work them out. She's tired, tired, so tired and she almost wants to be done.

Max walks straight up to Courtney, making no attempt at stealth or subtlety. Courtnet stiffens, her expression becoming sullen.

She says, "Come with me, quickly! Were you followed? Did you even try to be fucking low-key?"

Max shrugs. "I'm here. I'm alone. Let's get it over with, Courtney."

Courtney grabs her arm and hustles her towards an alleyway. "You've already risked something far bigger than you could understand by delaying this. If you had a clue what we're doing, you'd be _thanking_ Victoria. But, no, you're just a-"

Max groans. "Oh, please shut up. I know exactly what you're planning. The Chases aren't _that_ subtle."

Courtney scoffs, pausing in front of a weathered door. She knocks, a coded sequence Max doesn't bother to memorise. 

Courtney says, "If you knew...if you really knew, why run?"

Max shakes her head wearily. "I didn't run, Courtney."

Courtney scoffs. "You're bluffing. You're just pretending to be clever. You're just pretending to be the Lawspea-"

"Justicar." Max is surprised by the anger in her voice, by the anger Courtney has awoken in her. It seems so petty, and yet...Max finds that she still cares. "I know your plans. I know who the sorcerer who killed King Gregor is. I know what they're doing. And I've had all night to make _my_ plans."

Max locks eyes with Courtney, and offers her a smile. "I'm here because it suits my purpose. I'm here because it's who I am. I'm here to make restitution. I'm here to begin the reckoning. Make no mistake: I am the Lawspeaker. You're going to find out exactly what that means. Very soon."

Max turns away from Courtney when the door begins to open. She pushes inside, away from the fear in Courtney's eyes.

Towards what little is left of her future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, folks! It has been far too long! I'm trying to gear back up for this one, so don't expect to have to wait another six months (?!?!!!!) for the next part!
> 
> We're getting close to the end, now. One last push, a handful more chapters, and we're out! Thanks for coming with me this far!
> 
> Lemme know what you think in the comments! See you in a little while!


	26. Calm

Kate closes the kitchen door quietly behind her. She waits for a moment in the dimness of the hall, letting her eyes adjust. She's surprised when a patch of darkness shifts, revealing Chloe. "Hey," Chloe says. Her voice is roughened by smoke and unshed tears. Her tone is gentle.

Kate smiles, unsure if Chloe can see it. "Hey. I thought you...I didn't think you'd wait."

Chloe shrugs, maybe. It's hard to tell in the darkness. "Who else is going to show you to your room?"

"Oh. Of course."

Chloe takes a candle from a sconce on the wall, and passes it to Kate. She leads Kate up a flight of creaking oak stairs and along a short hall to a small, simple bedroom.

Kate steps inside, looking around. There's a double bed, which takes up most of the available space, a fireplace in which firewood is laid, awaiting only a spark. There's a vanity in the corner on which sits a hairbrush, a pitcher of fresh water, a washbasin, soap. There's even a cotton nightgown lying on the bed.

Chloe leans on the doorframe, not quite crossing into what is, for now, Kate's room. She snorts. "Look at all this. Rachel knew we were coming. I...fuck. I really want to hate her right now."

Kate puts the candle on the bedside cabinet. She faces Chloe. "Why?"

"Because she fucking lied to me? Because she fucking...manipulates people to get what she wants? Because I thought I knew her, I thought I...because, Kate! Fucking because!"

"Because..." Kate looks down, watching her hands wring each other. "Because she's still down there with Max?"

For a second, Chloe's body tenses, and her breath gets ragged. For a second, Kate thinks Chloe's going to leave, maybe slamming the door on her way out. But she doesn't.

She relaxes against the doorframe, and sighs. "No. Maybe? I...don't want her to hurt Max, that's all. Like it's even close to being the most important thing happening right now."

Kate nods, not looking up. "I understand. But if it's important to you, then..." Kate risks looking up, and offers Chloe a smile. "Then it's important."

Chloe snorts again. "Sure. I should...let you get to bed."

She pushes herself upright, but before she can go, Kate blurts, "Chloe! You don't hate Rachel, you said? I think that's good. Even if...part of you wants to, that's not the...biggest part of you."

Chloe smiles a tight, joyless smile. "Right. Too many other fuckers to hate right now. Like Jefferson. And the Prescotts. And...fucking Victoria."

Kate winces. "I know she-"

"Don't even try, Kate. She-"

"Lied to us? Manipulated us? Let us think that we knew her?"

"It's a bit fucking different, Kate."

"Yes. It is. Rachel is a thief and a...I'm not even sure what else. But she serves her own ends. Whereas Victoria believes it's her duty to restore the monarchy, to restore peace, and to wisely rule Elysium. I didn't understand, before, but some of the things she's said...this is a burden to her, Chloe. Not a-"

"Her people killed David," Chloe says, flatly. 

"I know. I'm so sorry, Chloe! I-"

"She wants Max." Chloe bunches her hands into fists. "She tried to have _you_ taken somewhere for who knows what! Because she wants a pretty crown? Fuck her!"

Kate sighs. "I know. She's made...'mistakes' isn't even close to the right word, but-"

Chloe snarls, "If it wasn't for this fucking oath, I'd..." She freezes, her eyes widening. Her voice cracks and she takes a step back, into the corridor. "I...I better go, I-"

Kate finds she still has some store of courage she hasn't exhausted tonight, and she uses all of it to take three quick paces, towards Chloe, and to take her hand, and to tug her across the threshold, into Kate's room.

Chloe meekly follows her, her head turned away, trying to hide the tears sliding down her pale cheeks. Kate guides her to the bed, and Chloe collapses rather than sits on the edge of it.

Kate hesitates, then closes the bedroom door. She takes off her shoes, placing them together neatly by the side of the bed that she intends to sleep on. She finds a taper in a drawer in the cabinet, and she lights it from the candle. She lights another candle that sits in a holder on the vanity, then crouches by the fireplace and applies her tiny flame to the kindling. She takes her time building the fire, nursing the small flame, feeding it sticks of firewood until she has a modest blaze that should be enough to keep the worst of the night at bay.

She wishes that she had more tea, but makes do with a pouring a cup of water, which she offers to Chloe. At some point while Kate was busy, Chloe's tears stopped. She doesn't say anything now, she just mutely accepts the cup and drains it in a single swallow.

Kate watches her drink, watches the way the shadows flicker across her skin, her blue hair, her pale eyes, her pink lips. Kate watches her clasp the now empty cup in both hands and turn it over and over in her lap. She watches her stare back at Kate, wary and wounded and too young to be so...damaged. To have suffered so much.

Kate smiles at her. "Lie down. Rest."

She turns away. She takes off her cloak, setting it on the chair by the vanity. She goes to work on her hair, removing the pins that hold it up one by one, laying them out neatly by the hair brush. She shakes out her hair, letting her thick tresses hang down. 

"Kate..." Chloe's voice is thick with emotion, and if some of it is doubt, and some of it fear, Kate's certain that not all of it is. "What are you doing?"

"Getting ready for bed," Kate says, her voice trembling. She's _blushing_ , and her fingers have become so clumsy she's struggling to take off her dress, but she manages it at last.

She lays the dress over the back of the chair, and then she takes off her stockings, blushing more fiercely than ever. She leaves the rest of her underwear on, but even so, she has to stop and take a few breaths before she can face the bed. Before she can face Chloe. 

Chloe is still sitting upright, still fiddling with the empty cup. She's staring into the fire, but...her cheeks are red, too. 

Kate tries not to shrink into herself, to hide her body as she walks to the bed. She hesitates for a second, before reaching past Chloe for the nightgown. Chloe looks at her, eyes wide, shrinking back from her slightly. 

Kate holds the nightgown in her hands and tries another smile. "Chloe...it's okay. I want you to get washed, now. I won't look, okay? But you should get washed, and then you should come to bed."

Chloe swallows. "That isn't...a good idea, I-" She breaks off, wincing.

"Shh." Kate touches her cheek, daring no more than to touch the pads of her fingers to Chloe's skin. "I don't want to be alone. I don't want you to be alone. Can we...just that? Try...that?"

Chloe looks down. "I've got blood on my hands..."

"That's why you should wash." Kate runs her fingers up, across the soot-darkened but smooth, soft skin of Chloe's cheek, over the ridge of her cheekbone. She runs her fingers through the short strands of Chloe's hair, marvelling not that it's been touched by the divine, but that it's Chloe's. Her hair is warm, soft, and the blue colour suits her so well.

"I don't just mean-" 

"I know. I know what you mean. I won't say it's alright, because that isn't for me to decide. But, Chloe... " Kate draws in a breath. Chloe's eyes are wide, scared, and fixed on hers. "I know who you are. And I can see that... _all_ I can see is that you're tired, and grieving, and...you need rest. So...take off your boots. Wash. And come rest with me."

"I'll hurt you," Chloe whispers desperately. "I don't want to hurt you, Kate."

"I know you don't! And I...know you might." Kate swallows. Her mouth is as dry as her palms are clammy. "I accept that. I'm willing to risk that. Will you risk me hurting you, too?"

"I..." Chloe blinks, her expression shifting. "I'm so fucked up, Kate. I don't know what to do. I don't know what I want."

"Okay," Kate says, hoping her disappointment isn't obvious. "That's okay, Chloe. But you should-"

"Wash up. Yeah." She grimaces. "I...you're amazing, Kate. I...that isn't what you want to hear, maybe, but I mean it, and-"

Kate kisses her brow, shocking her into silence. "Thank you."

She backs away, and turns around, giving Chloe some kind of privacy so that she can wash. Kate fumbles her way into the nightgown, appreciating the cool, clean cotton against her skin. She perches on the edge of the chair in front of the vanity and begins brushing her hair. It's soothing, to do something simple and repetitive, and it allows her to ignore Chloe, who is taking off her shirt and washing herself in the basin, just a few feet away.

Kate's done before Chloe is. She keeps her eyes averted when she gets up and goes to the bed. She climbs under the blanket and lays her head on the pillow, her back to Chloe. She watches shadows dance on the wall and listens to the splash of water and the rustle of cloth and the sound of Chloe breathing, breathing, and quietly crying. Kate tries to think about anything other than what's happening behind her and what might happen tomorrow.

She thinks about her mother, and tries to imagine explaining any of this to her: her mission, Hella, battling street thugs and Justicars, a demon, a sorcerer...Chloe. How could she ever explain Chloe to her mother? How could Kate possibly make her understand how...blessed Kate feels to know her. Not because she's Hella's Chosen, but because she's Chloe Price. 

"I shouldn't need to explain. I shouldn't need to justify...I know what's right. I do."

"Kate?"

She blinks, and turns to look at Chloe. She's standing awkwardly by the bed, hugging her filthy shirt and her trousers to her chest. Which means that she's wearing only her underwear and the bandages on her chest.

Kate keeps her eyes on Chloe's and smiles as best she can. "Come on. Into bed."

For a moment, Chloe just stares at her, chewing her lip, then she nods jerkily, and turns away to put her clothes on the nightstand. Kate rolls onto her back after a second, and even though she feels guilty for not turning away more quickly, she can't muster the energy to regret it. She keeps her eyes on the ceiling, until the bed creaks, and the mattress dips, and Chloe is beside her. She lies down on her side, facing Kate, keeping a careful six inches away.

Kate rolls onto her side and smiles again. Chloe smiles back, shy but calmer now.

"This is okay, isn't it Chloe?"

Chloe slowly nods. "Yeah. This is...this is good. Thanks, Kate."

"You're welcome. I'm...I'm grateful, too."

Chloe closes her eyes and seems to drift away. Kate watches her, watches her face smooth out, the pain and the worry ease away. She wishes Chloe could always be this peaceful. She wishes Chloe was closer, even though Kate doesn't know what she would do if Chloe were to wake up, and to reach out for her.

"I spent most of the last five years hating David," Chloe says, softly. "At least...I thought I did. I've learned a lot about hate lately."

Kate wants to touch her, but she isn't sure how to do it in that moment. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

"Do you want to...talk about him?"

Chloe opens her eyes. "No. I don't hate him right now, and I don't want to remember anything that might..." She winces. "I...never loved him, Kate. But, I..." Her brow wrinkles. "I don't know if I miss him, or it's just...the idea of never getting to know him better. I...don't think I really got to know who he was. And he...he gave up everything for me. Like it was...like it wasn't even a choice. Just...something he had to do."

"It was his choice. But it was easy to choose you, because he already had. All those years ago. He...loved you, Chloe."

"Well, he was shit at showing it. Stupid asshole."

Kate smiles sadly. "He probably wasn't a good man, Chloe. But he tried to do good, for you. That's worth...I think that's worth a lot."

"Yeah? Yeah, probably." She shakes her head. "I...it shouldn't have cost him-"

"It cost him as much as he was willing to give, Chloe. There may not be any joy in that, but there is...honour. True honour. Not the kind that...well, that you fought a duel over."

Chloe snorts. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess. Fuck. I kinda wish Rachel still had a tavern, so I could toast that fucker. Send him off properly."

"Do you have to...Chloe, can't you just say his name?"

Chloe smiles wryly. "Yeah? But it wouldn't feel right. Not...not just yet."

Kate doesn't understand, but she understands that Chloe is working her way towards making some kind of peace with David's loss, so she nods. "Alright."

They're quiet for a while. They look at each other, and they breathe, and they relax and let warmth seep into them. Warmth seems to seep into Chloe's eyes, which brighten as she comes back to herself.

Kate smiles at her, and Chloe smiles back.

"Thanks, Kate," she whispers.

"You don't have to keep thanking me."

"No, I mean...I mean, for earlier. You saved us back there. Without you, Victoria would have..." Chloe shudders. "I don't know how to deal with all this shit, Kate. I've been trying to...but I don't know if I'm helping anything at all. And I've definitely been making some things...worse."

"You make things better, Chloe," Kate says quietly. "But you've been given a heavy burden and you can't...save everyone. I know it isn't fair, and I know you feel...but you can't punish yourself for everything that goes-"

"Uh, Kate?" Chloe's lips twitch, amused. "Hella kinda commanded me to save the whole world, so, uh, we'd better _hope_ I can save everyone."

Kate flushes. She's embarrassed, but mostly she's pleased that Chloe's teasing her again. For perhaps one more reason than she should be. "I should have said that you can't solve all the world's problems."

"I...suppose." Chloe lets out a ghost of a laugh. "I just would've thought, you being a priestess, and Hella's command being the first time any of the Gods have spoken directly in a century, you might've...I don't know, written it done or some shit?"

Kate gently kicks Chloe's shin. "I haven't forgotten Hella's words!"

Chloe gasps. "Striking Hella's Chosen? Are you _sure_ you're a priestess, Kate? I'd think this kind of behaviour would get you kicked out of...the...clubhouse?"

"The sanctum, Chloe! Are you sure you should be lecturing _me_ on spiritual affairs? Honestly, I think even the first Chosen of this age deserves a kick in the shin if she's being mean. Especially if she's being mean to a priestess!"

Chloe's smile fades. "Maybe. Yeah, no, you're right. That should be a thing."

"No being mean to priestesses? There are a lot of people I wish would follow that rule."

"Nah. Well, maybe. But I meant...no being mean to Kate."

"Oh." Kate lets her eyes wander over Chloe's face. She looks tired, but far more relaxed than she was earlier. She looks serious, too, and she's looking at Kate with the same open curiosity and wonder with which Kate is looking at her. Kate's heart begins to race, competing against all of the thoughts that Kate's been trying to lock away foe the last ten minutes. "Oh."

Chloe blinks, and her eyes slide away, looking somewhere over Kate's shoulder. "Kate...Victoria told me...no, _commanded_ me...uh, well." Chloe takes a deep breath and meets Kate's eyes again. "She told me not to break your heart."

Kate stares into Chloe's eyes, puzzled, until the significance of such a command, of such an _oathbound_ order registers. Kate's whole face gets hot. She gets a queasy feeling in her stomach, and she finds she doesn't want to look into Chloe's eyes anymore, in case she sees some kind of pity there, and that she's too afraid to look away, in case she misses the moment when it shows.

"She...I...see. So you've been...is that why you-"

"No." Chloe stirs, lifting her arm out from under the duvet. She touches Kate's lips, silencing her, then slowly traces the curve of Kate's cheek, following the same path Kate's fingers took across Chloe's skin. Chloe's fingers are callused, but her touch is gentle; it still ignites something in Kate, awakens a hunger in her for more. "Her order doesn't mean shit to me. It isn't shaping how I feel about you. It hasn't changed the way I think about you. _I_ don't want to hurt you, Kate. You're sweet, and kind, and brave, and better than I deserve."

Kate groans. "Chloe, please! That isn't true! I don't-"

"Shh." Chloe traces her thumb over Kate's lips. "I...think you're beautiful, Kate. But I'm...not...I'm not-"

"You don't...love me," Kate whispers, the fire in her veins that warmed her now threatening to blister her heart.

Chloe's eyebrows shoot up. Her hand lingers on Kate's cheek. "Uh, no? You don't love me, either, Kate."

Kate swallows. "I...I do!" She hesitates, considering, as Chloe gently strokes the corner of her mouth, and watches her expectantly. "I...haven't ever felt...isn't this...I think it's love?"

The uncertainty in her own voice makes her wince, and she feels too hot, her whole body feels too hot. But Chloe's touch is soothing, calming, and there is no trace of pity in her eyes or condescension in the way she smiles now.

"That's...what I'm trying to say. You don't know me, Kate. It's only been a couple of days. And this is new to you, right?"

"What I'm feeling is real!" Kate protests.

"I know. I know. And I feel...I _like_ you, Kate." Chloe gently pushes her hand into the mass of Kate's hair, slowly running her fingers through Kate's thick tresses. "I'm...uh, I am attracted to you. And that's kinda in spite of me trying not to ever get this close to you. Because...fuck, because you scare me. Someone...wanting me like you do...in spite of all the shit you've seen me do...I'm not used to that."

Kate bites her lip, but can't stop herself from asking, "What about Max?"

"I love her," Chloe says, still running her fingers through Kate's hair. "More than anyone else in the world. I don't think I'm _in_ love with her, though. But, Kate...I meant it, earlier." She smiles wearily. "I'm fucked up right now. The world's been kicking the shit out of me the past few days. I'm all messed up. Everything I wanted...I don't know about anymore. Except I still want out of Arcadia. I can't stay here. But the rest...I don't know, Kate. I don't know."

"Okay," Kate whispers, fighting to breathe and to stay still, and not to break. "I...understand. I shouldn't have...put pressure on you and-"

"Shh." Chloe disentangles her hand from Kate's hair, and pushes it behind Kate's ear. Her hand comes to rest on Kate's neck, and her thumb rubs slow circles along the hinge of Kate's jaw. "I know this, too. I don't want to hurt you. I would like...to get to know you better, though. If you're not...if you want. I'd like to...take tea with you again, and not have to run away from...whatever those guys are. Cultists?"

Kate hopes that Chloe can't feel her pulse, that she won't be able to learn how wild Kate's heart has become. "N-no cultists next time. Yes, I'd like that!" Kate inches closer to Chloe. "When this is over, I'm going home. To Skald. Skald is...it isn't Arcadia."

"No," Chloe says, her expression shifting, some kind of excitement showing under the calm she's maintained until now. "Skald isn't Arcadia, huh?"

"I...I want to get to know you better, Chloe."

Chloe lets out a ragged sigh, and shakes her head. "You are fucking amazing, Kate. Okay. Okay, let's get tea, then. In...Skald."

Kate clasps Chloe's, suddenly grinning. "And cake!"

Chloe smiles. "And cake, yeah. A lot of cake."

And suddenly, Kate knows that everything is going to work out. They are walking the path that the Gods have set for them, and it will not be easy, but it will work out. Because it has to, because she and Chloe are going to get tea together, and get to know each other, away from madness, and evil, and death.

Hope can be a dangerous thing, but Kate is filled with the hope that she and Chloe could learn if they love each other, and she intends to do everything she can to nurture and to realise that hope.

Chloe brushes her thumb against the corner of Kate's mouth again, and Kate abruptly realises that there isn't more than two or three inches between them. Her stomach flutters pleasantly. 

"Chloe..."

She doesn't get a chance to work out words to say, or even if further words would have been needed. Their bedroom door is shoved open, and Rachel limps quickly into the room.

She pauses at the sight of them, so close, and her eyes widen. "Oh! I-"

Chloe stiffens, turning angrily on Rachel. "If this is another game, Rachel, I swear I'll-"

Rachel shakes her head frantically. "It's not a fucking...Chloe! Max is gone! She...she fucking stole my cloak and sneaked out of the house! She's _gone_!"

Kate stares at Chloe, watching her anger dissolve into fear, before she lets out a snarl and leaps out of bed, fumbling for her clothes. Kate closes her eyes, and it seems like all of her hopes slip away out of Rachel's house, vanishing in Max's wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update! A shorter update, but an update! I've been struggling to get the next bit of this out, because I was focused on the wrong thing, and it turns out giving this chapter over to Kate and Chloe worked. I think! That's kinda up to you to decide. Please do let me know what you think in the comments! Every comment matters, especially on this fic!
> 
> I'm going to try to finish this thing before we run out of summer. I don't know if that's possible, to be honest, but I think if I can keep things more focused, it might just work out. So expect shorter updates, but more frequent updates on this!
> 
> Thanks for reading. Thanks for sticking with this one. And thanks for your incredible patience!


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